Roter Himmel, Terra Rosa
by Undertaker's Madness
Summary: Written with my RP partner Stickiebun. During WWII, Reaper Dispatch in Germany ends up needing assistance in collecting all the souls that became victims to the war and Holocaust. William and Ronald partner up to help on the battlefields collecting the souls of fallen German solders. But War time can test any reaper's limits and break them. Yaoi, violent themes, adult themes
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler) and all characters therein belong to Yana Toboso. We make no profit from the writing of this fanfiction, and it is strictly for entertainment purposes only_**_._

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><p>He got the order from the board, and he stared at it for long moments before making the decision to choose candidates and call them into his office for a meeting and to issue their orders. As he waited for them to arrive, William T. Spears began to pace the floor. He looked out the broad window overlooking the reaper metropolis and he narrowed his eyes against the rising sun, pausing to watch it for a moment. What might the sunrise look like in such a setting? He couldn't imagine it appearing this peaceful and welcoming.<p>

"Hmph. Peaceful and welcoming," he mused. No, where he would soon be going, the light of day would only highlight the horror of everything. Blood, screams, fire, gunshots…and carrion. He sighed and removed his glasses, pressing a thumb and forefinger against either side of the bridge of his nose to massage it. He would find nothing peaceful about the sunrise while on this assignment.

There was a knock at his door, and a junior officer with shoulder-length, feathered auburn hair stuck his head in. "Boss Spears?"

"I would prefer that you call me 'Mister Spears', 'Sir', or 'Supervisor Spears', Alexander Jeffries. I've told you that."

The younger reaper smiled—he smiled too much for William's liking, though his were not the mad grins of the Undertaker's; nor were they the cocky, engaging smiles of Ronald Knox. They were more like the boyish, distracted smiles of a youth who hadn't yet suffered enough harsh reality to know better. "Sorry."

He didn't _sound _sorry. He said it as if an afterthought, and he came in. "What's up, sir?"

William replaced his glasses and he turned to look at him, gesturing broadly at the room. "Have a seat somewhere and wait for the others to arrive. I shall explain when—_not_ in my chair."

Jeffries' butt was hovering two inches over William's leather office chair and he stopped, giving him another damnably absent smile and shrugging. "I was just doing as you told me, boss…er…sir."

He got up and went to one of the other chairs on the opposite side of the desk, sitting down with a sigh and crossing one ankle over a knee. He twiddled his thumbs and flicked his black sneaker-clad foot as if tapping it to the beat of a song, while his knee bounced rapidly. That particular nervous habit grated on William's nerves almost as much as the fingerless gloves the boy wore.

"And I believe I have also told you that those gloves are not regulation," admonished the supervisor, his eyes narrowing on Alexander's twiddling thumbs.

The motions of said thumbs stopped, and the junior officer shook his feathered bangs out of his eyes and looked at him with the helpless expression of a man wrongly accused, spreading his hands. "I only wear 'em so I can type better in the office, though. Slows me down if I've got the regular ones on, and I always put on the regulation ones when I go out in the field to collect, sir."

"Then why not simply _remove_ your gloves when you work at your desk?" suggested William caustically. "I should think a reaper of your reputed intellect would have the sense to—"

"Mornin' boss," said a deep voice with a Scottish burr, interrupting his lecture.

Eric Slingby walked in with his partner, Alan Humphries. Rather than take a seat, he chose to go up to the window and lean against it, his blue-tinted polarized glasses shading his eyes from the morning light. The sun backlit his tall frame, highlighting the golden lion's mane of hair falling to his collar in waves, but for the right side—which was braided into cornrows and dyed black. His brunet partner Alan—small and slim of build and barely reaching Eric's shoulders—stood beside him and yawned softly behind his hand. His youthful countenance complimented the Scotsman's more rugged one, rather than clashing with it.

"Good," remarked William. "Thank you both for your prompt arrival."

"I arrived promptly too," reminded Jeffries, "and he just called you 'boss'. No lecture for him?"

"Slingby is a senior officer who has proven himself many times over," William answered shortly. "He has earned the right. You, Alexander Jeffries, have not."

Eric smirked. "Been reapin' since everyone in this room was still in diapers, kid. Including tha boss, here."

Alexander shrugged and started twiddling his thumbs again. "Crystal clear."

William checked his watch. "Now if only Sutcliff and Knox would arrive, we could begin."

Eric folded his arms across his chest, the thin gold chain around his throat glinting in the light. "Could ya give us a hint o' wha' this is about, sir?"

"You will get more than a 'hint', once the others arrive," promised William. "I have no desire to repeat myself, and so we shall begin once we are all assembled. I only wish to go over this once, is that understood?"

Alan nodded quietly and Eric followed suit. William looked at Jeffries. "Is that _understood_, Mr. Jeffries?"

Alexander jerked his thoughts away from whatever song he'd been playing in his head and humming to. "Yessir. I'm hip with that."

"Honestly," muttered the supervisor beneath his breath. He found it easier to understand Eric when his accent got thick than it was to comprehend the slang so often used by the youngest generation of agents like Jeffries and Knox.

The door suddenly burst open, and a reaper dressed in black pants, a brown vest, a red and white-striped bow-tie and a long, ill-fitting red coat twirled in with a dramatic entrance. His crimson hair fell past his waist and it flared around him as he danced in.

"Hello, my darlings," cooed Grell, "your idol has arrived! Grell Sutcliff d—"

"Enough of that," snapped William before he could finish his self-promoting greeting. "Sit down and be quiet, Sutcliff. We have much to discuss and I won't have this meeting distracted with your antics."

Ronald Knox stumbled in, his signature white shoes dragging the carpeted floor as he mumbled a greeting and combed black-gloved fingers through his dual-colored blond on black hair. He made a beeline for the leather futon and he collapsed on it.

"Do not dare fall asleep, Ronald Knox," warned William when the boy curled up like a sleepy mouse and shut his eyes behind the somewhat oversized black frames of his glasses. "I need you alert enough to understand the directive I'm about to give. Heavens, it's like herding cats with you people."

Eric smirked and walked over to the futon to nudge Ronald with his boot. "Up an' at 'em, shrimp. I warned ya no' tae stay out partyin' sae late."

Ronald swatted at the Scotsman blindly and grumbled, turning over onto his other side and pillowing his head on one bent arm. "Yeah, yeah…I'm listening."

"Good, then. The Berlin Dispatch division is in need of foreign aid. The number of souls to collect has risen dramatically this year, and they lack the numbers to keep up with it. As such, they have requested aid from all major branches across the world, in order to garnish assistance without leaving anyone short on staff—or rather in our case—shorter. London Dispatch can only spare four agents for this assignment; two of which will collect the records of fallen German soldiers, while the other two will be assigned to the concentration camps…to gather the records of the victims there."

Alexander looked around with a frown. "But there's five of us here, sir."

"Indeed. I have decided to take on the task of the soldiers myself, with a partner. I will require two reliable officers to run this department in my stead while I am away, hence why I called five of you for this meeting, rather than three. Officer Humphries, Officer Slingby, I am counting on you."

Eric's brows shot up. "Ya want _me_ tae run this place while yer gone? Have ya thought this through, boss?"

William nodded. "I have. With your more…conservative partner at your side handling the paperwork, I believe you can manage dispatch assignments. You have been here longer than anyone in this room, as you said, and you know the workings of this department."

Eric shrugged. "A'right, then. Who's partnering up wi' ya in Germany?"

Ignoring Grell's suddenly hopeful look, William nodded at Ronald. "I'll take Knox."

"Whaaa?" Grell pouted. "No offense to my darling Ronnie, but he's still green, Will!"

"Which is why he will be partnered with me," explained the supervisor. "We are short staffed, Grell Sutcliff, and we cannot afford to send the bulk of our senior officers on this mission. No junior officers should be sent without a mentor to guide them, either. It's far too dangerous for that."

"Then who am _I_ getting partnered with?" Grell asked, crimson brows furrowing.

Everyone looked at Jeffries, who smiled benignly at Grell. "Looks like you'll be my mentor, Officer Sutcliff."

Grell made a face and gave William a protesting look. "If I have to be teamed up with a greenie, why not the one I've trained from fledgling status?"

"No need to fight over lil' old me," yawned Ronald, grinning. "Plenty o' Knoxie t' go around."

"Because where you'll be going, you may need the skills of someone with a greater understanding of technology and mechanics…and someone that spends most of his spare time researching everything under the sun—including the current goings-on in war-torn mortal Europe."

Alexander smiled a bit wider, taking it as a compliment. "Wow, thanks for putting faith in me, b—I mean, sir. I know all about German engineering and—"

"You will be assigned to the death camps with Officer Sutcliff," interrupted William succinctly.

The young agent's smile faltered and faded, his lightly tanned complexion going a little pale. "Oh."

Everyone sobered at that…even Grell. William adjusted his glasses and turned to look out the window again. "I chose Sutcliff because he does not give way to compassion when he reaps. That will be an asset. I myself am familiar with the country and am best suited to guide myself and my partner through it in our task."

"Bloody Germans," muttered Eric.

William turned his head to look at him, raising a brow. "I happen to be German, Mr. Slingby."

Eric blinked, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Ye are? Really? I had no idea."

The tall brunet smirked without humor. "On my mother's side, yes. I was raised in England, but I am fluent in German and I spent enough time there visiting with my family to know my way around."

Eric grimaced. "I dinnae mean tae offend. I jus' dun' understand how they can do tha things they're doin' an' still sleep at night."

"Eric Slingby with a conscience," mused William.

"I've go' some morals, boss," insisted the Scotsman. "Ye'd ne'er see reapers wiping each o'er out like tha'."

"You used to have the same attitude towards the English," murmured Alan as a reminder.

Eric shrugged. "A'right, so I did. But this is even worse than wha' happened in Scotland."

"Direct your anger where it belongs," advised William sternly, "at the Nazi regime, not the country it originated from. Not every German citizen supports what goes on, need I remind you. Besides, we are meant to be neutral in these matters. Our task is to judge the souls we collect, true, but we are to do so impartially and without malice. If you must feel anything for these mortals and their actions, better for it to be pity than loathing. They are un-evolved and weak, as a whole."

Eric sighed, flushing a little. "Aye. Seems ye made tha right call keeping me here."

William nodded. "Indeed."

He picked up the paperwork he'd put together and he passed out a folder to each of the reapers that would be on assignment. "These are the itineraries we are to follow. We shall leave tomorrow at dawn. Do not be late, and remember to pack any necessary items you wish to take with you to the Berlin branch. Accommodation for us has already been arranged in Shinigami Berlin, so we will have a place in this realm to rest between assignments. We will report in to their Dispatch headquarters at the end of each workday to turn in our collections and be debriefed. In addition, I will fax those reports here to our home division to be processed by Mr. Humphries, to keep the board of directors updated on our progress."

He looked around at his fellow agents, his face a cool mask despite his inner feelings on the entire affair. "Get plenty of rest tonight, Gentlemen. Those who will be departing for Germany may take the rest of the day off. Slingby and Humphries, resume your normal work duties for the day. I shall organize a chart for you to go by in my absence, and should you run into any problems, you may reach me on my mobile phone. Are there any questions?"

Jeffries slowly raised his hand. William sighed. "Yes, what is it, Mr. Jeffries?"

Alexander looked up from the documents he was flipping through, his oval, wire-framed glasses darkening as the sun struck them. "Say we run across a tank. Can I drive it?"

William grimaced slightly. "With _your_ driving record, I should say not."

"Oh."

* * *

><p>"Ronnie! Up! We got to go to Germany today. If you make me late I'm leaving without you and taking your spot with my darling William!" Grell snipped, jumping on Ronald who was fast asleep on his couch.<p>

Ronald didn't own a bed, and he only had a couch because Grell had been throwing it away when he got a new one. Grell lived just down the hall from Ronald in the same apartment complex. But compared to Grell's lavish flat, Ronald's was cramped, mis-matched, and messy. The furniture was all second-hand items he'd picked up off his neighbors when they were replacing them. From Grell's old red couch to an ugly, faded yellow chair with a high back and a broken seat, everything was out of date apart from his wardrobe which was all designer name-brand items. His watch alone was worth more than all his furnishings put together.

"Up! It's your turn to drive us to work!" Grell insisted, pinching Ronald's cheeks and tugging on them until the young blond responded with a groan, his eyes cracking open. "Honestly, you have got to stop partying all night! Especially last night! You knew you had to get up early."

"I dinna wanna." Ron groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes before reaching for his glasses which were sitting among empty bottles on a old wooden coffee table in dire need of being refinished. "Stupid Germany…we have enough deaths with the air raids on London…"

"Well, now you get to reap the ones responsible rather than victims." Grell said, getting up and moving to the kitchen to make up some eggs to help get Ron moving, "That help?"

"I'd rather go to Germany if I get to reap that nasty Hitler guy." Ron stretched, his blanket falling from his bare shoulders before he stood up, Completely nude, he shuffled around the room, picking up clean boxers and ducking into the bathroom for a quick shower and to brush his hair and teeth. When he came back out, he wore only his boxers and his towel around his neck to catch the water from his hair; as he preferred it to air dry. He walked to his closet and began to dress himself in a clean, pressed suit, leaving the top button of his shirt open and his tie loose. He slipped on his signature white belt and then slipped on his shoes and gloves.

"Hey, Senpai…what should I pack?"

Grell walked out with a plate of eggs and handed it to the boy. He hadn't been bothered by the nudity. He was used to it, though he still liked to tease his junior about it some mornings. "You didn't pack last night?"

"Didn't know what to take." Ron shrugged, taking the plate and fork, sitting down to eat.

"Well, you'll likely be given clothes to wear. War-time reaps are often long-term undercover assignments of sorts. There is so much death on the battle fields that many humans can see a reaper, even if he is masking himself. Uniforms help cut down on mortal wounds directed at a reaper. Bullets hurt. Trust me, darling. Basically, just take whatever you can't be without. Maybe a nice picture of one of your girlfriends or something."

"…So I don't really need to take anything?"

"Just your scythe." Grell said, then frowned, "Darling…I know how fond of your scythe you are…but it's quite large and heavy. You may want to consider taking something easier to handle on a battlefield."

"But I like mine! She runs great! I can really fight with her if a demon shows it's ugly face!" Ronald insisted, referring to his scythe which was in the form of a push lawn mower.

"I know, but it does get jammed on you at times. You need something quick and reliable. You have to be on your toes. You can't be fiddling with your mower." Grell pointed out as he watched Ron shovel eggs into his mouth, barely taking time to chew before swallowing.

"Den what am I—" he paused to swallow, "supposed to take? My old trainee scythe? Nah, no way."

"It is only a suggestion, Ronnie." Grell hopped up and pulled his long red hair into a ponytail and grinned, "Ready?"

Ron nodded and snatched up his keys, "Ready."

Together, the two reapers made their way out to the parking garage and Ron hopped onto his sleek orange motorcycle. "Hop on, Senpai." He grinned as he turned it on. Grell hopped on behind him and soon they were speeding down the roadway towards the Dispatch building.

* * *

><p>"Knox and Sutcliff are late." William checked his watch again. "How typical."<p>

He was standing in one of the executive conference rooms with Jeffries and two visiting reapers from Berlin Dispatch, waiting to create a portal that would require the combined efforts of all of them, to travel such a distance. He looked at the male and female reapers that had come to assist with their transport to Germany, give them a tour of the headquarters there and show them to their suites. William was already dressed as a Nazi soldier, while Alexander wore appropriate civilian clothing for the current era in the mortal realm, including a black flat cap.

"I apologize for our associates' tardiness," offered William in German. "I assure you they are good agents. They are simply running a bit late."

The foreign officers both nodded patiently, pacified by his fluent use of their mother tongue and the burden it took off them to speak in English. Both were trained to do so passably, but his offering to translate for them made things easier. The flaxen blonde woman eyed William covertly, a tiny smirk adorning her lips. Terrible as the Reich was, their sharp dress code was attractive and William T. Spears wore the SS officer uniform very well. The British Dispatch supervisor turned his back to them and her gaze became slightly more obvious. Her partner gave her a sidelong warning look when he noticed how her eyes admired the way the pants fit Spears' backside, and he nudged her disapprovingly.

"Ah, here they come," William said with faint relief as he saw a flash of red through the open door of the conference room. As soon as Grell and Ronald entered, he tapped his watch and raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

"Ronnie's fault!" Grell said as soon as he was within ear-shot. The redhead had slung Ronald's protesting form over his shoulder as soon as they had parked the bike. Both their hair wind-whipped from the ride.

"Was not my fault traffic was so bad!" Ronald hissed, "Put me down! I can run on my own, Senpai!" As soon as Grell set him on his feet, he took out a comb and quickly ran it through his hair to make sure it looked nice.

"Oh~ William-darling~ You look very official dressed like that~" Grell cooed, moving to hang off the man, only to stumble for balance after William side-stepped his advance.

"…Not the best entrance we could have made, Senpai…" Ron sighed.

William straightened his glasses in a dignified manner and he began introductions, starting with the blond woman. "Good of you both to come. This is Officer Bernat and her partner, Officer Gabler. They will serve as our guides until we depart for the mortal realm from Germany. You already know that Europe in the mortal realm is currently war-torn, but what we have thus far seen in England is rather tame, compared to the sights we'll soon be seeing in Germany and surrounding occupied territories. The allies are closing in on the Reich and their supporters, so I'm afraid that the information I gave you yesterday was somewhat misleading."

Alexander sighed, and when William gave him a warning look, he wisely kept his mouth shut. "We shall be given a list of several locations throughout Europe to collect in, which means making use of established portals in between our realm and the mortal one, in order to travel more efficiently. Each team shall have to rely on some form of transport between portals, whether it be in this realm or the other. It's too dangerous to teleport long distances in the mortal realm right now—you could end up on a landmine or in the middle of a firefight with no cover, hence the need for use of pre-established, open portals. These portals are each guarded on the Shinigami side, to prevent the possibility of demons coming though from the other side to create mischief."

William handed Grell and Ronald two sets of identification; one for the mortal realm and one for the Shinigami realm. "We will each be going under aliases in the mortal realm as we move around to complete our directives. The directives themselves remain the same: Knox and I are to collect records from fallen German troops, while Sutcliff and Jeffries gather from the victims in the concentration camps. Expect to encounter other reapers from other branches doing the same. They have their assignments and we have ours. Pass like ships in the night, gentlemen. They have their jobs to do an unless they show you a badge with the same symbol on the bottom right corner of your own, they should have no interest in collecting from your marks."

Grell sighed and looked at the badges he was handed, "Any idea on how much longer this war is going to last?"

"Too long." Ron muttered, pocketing his and leaning against the wall, "But no use in complaining. Everyone is getting overtime and it won't stop until the humans settle things on their own."

"With any luck, things will settle before another decade passes," William said. "Until then, every top-power nation in the world will continue to slaughter one another and we must keep up with the tide of souls. We cannot allow the demons to feed on our targets, if it can be prevented. Now then, about accommodation: It has been arranged for us at each collection location, on our side of the planes. Staying overnight in the mortal realm would be ill advised. When we reach Berlin Dispatch, we will be given our first death lists to collect and part ways by this afternoon to begin. Collections shall be turned in at each respective agency as we move across Europe; to be sent to Berlin Headquarters."

He noticed Ronald's lack of luggage and he frowned. "Did you bring nothing for this journey, Knox? Our hosts have arranged for our bags to be transported to each new location when we finish our assignments and prepare to move on."

Ronald shook his head, "I couldn't think of anything I'd really need. Grell told me that I'd be given a uniform to wear so I didn't see the need to pack extra suits or anything. I grabbed my toiletries though; and extra boxers." he pulled a small bag out of an inner pocket.

William gave what might have passed for a shrug. "As you wish. Both you and Sutcliff will be given proper attire to wear in the mortal realm, to suit your respective roles. You shall be masquerading as an SS adjutant, Mr. Knox. Mr. Sutcliff, both you and Mr. Jeffries must dress as civilians. You will be shipped with the other victims to the Auschwitz concentration camp in Poland, for a start. Sutcliff, I'm afraid you will need to do something with your hair. Either cut it short, find a way to conceal it…or…dress as a woman. I shall leave the choice up to you, but you must fit in with the population you will be reaping, all the same."

"Wait…I don't like the way you said _'other victims'_," Alexander said in an uneasy tone. "Don't tell me we're expected to get gassed."

"Not that it would harm you as reapers, but no." William smirked at him. "You will, however, need to enter the extermination chambers to collect, and to make your job easier, you will need to pose as two of the intended targets. Under no circumstance are you to interfere with what is being done, no matter how abhorrent you may find it. Is that understood?"

Jeffries tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and grimaced. "Uh-huh. Loud and clear."

"You want us to play the part of the victims? Why can't we be on clean-up duty? We could collect souls after they open up the showers to clear out bodies," Grell protested. "I've heard the reports of what goes on there! The victims are stripped, shaved down, and branded like cattle with tattoos. I want no part of such abuse!"

"I am not suggesting you allow yourselves to be _taken_ to the chambers with those who are doomed to them, Sutcliff," corrected William, "but the fact remains that you must fit in with the population of the prisoners, nonetheless. Vanish from mortal sight when they come for you, make your collections in those chambers after it is done, and move on to the next assignments."

"It'd be easier as a German, I think." Grell insisted, "You—what was your name? Don't you agree with me?" He asked his partner for the assignment.

"Grell, I'm sure Berlin Dispatch has figured out the best way to handle the camps." Ron sighed.

William sighed as well. "These were the orders relayed to me because the board felt it would be easier for you to move amongst the victim population as one of them. Once we reach our destination, I shall contact them and discuss the possibility of the two of you going in as Reich soldiers. I will advise you not to get your hopes up, however. Going into this situation as a Nazi would mean directly involving yourselves in the extermination of the people they are currently rounding up. You would at least have to put up a reasonable pretense of herding these doomed souls to their death…and that includes unleashing dogs on children that try to run away."

Jeffries swallowed. "I'd rather play a victim, thanks."

"But we'll be dirty and bald!"

"Senpai." Ronald walked over to Grell, "You'll be acting out a part. You're good at that." He encouraged, to get his senior to calm and let the briefing continue.

"As Knox said," agreed William, "you needn't alter your appearance physically. You only need to disguise it enough to be convincing. Jeffries knows enough about such things to put on the illusion convincingly. Don't try to convince me you cannot do the same, Sutcliff."

Grell crossed his arms, fully pouting about the situation he wasn't pleased with.

"So, do I change here?" Ron asked, eyeing William's uniform, "Or are you just jumping the gun?"

"I collected my uniform early and changed," answered William, "but considering you both arrived too late to don your undercover attire and we shan't be leaving from Shinigami Berlin right away, I suppose yours can wait until after the tour. Sutcliff, we will require your help to activate the portal. Silence from the rest of you would be appreciated for the sake of our concentration.

Alexander looked at Ronald and shrugged, making a "zipping" motion over his lips and smiling.

"If you insist, Boss." Ron shrugged, sitting down in a chair as Grell hopped up to help.

The four senior officers created the long-distance portal together, and William urged them all to go through while it held. After a dizzying trip to the other side of it, they stood before the Berlin headquarters. It was much busier than the London branch; with reapers dressed in both civilian and military clothing coming and going up and down the steps in an ant-like race. The hosting officers quickly ushered them in to show them around the facilities and an hour later, they were ready to depart, each London Dispatch officer dressed accordingly to his role. Their luggage was transported to their first respective destinations and it was time for the two teams to part ways and get going.

William glanced sidelong at Ronald as he stepped outside the building entrance with him. The boy was trying to find a way to fit the hat that came with his uniform onto his head without messing up his hairdo.

"Honestly, Knox…be fortunate your hair is short enough not to warrant a cut or illusion," he lectured softly. He nodded to their hosts. "I believe we are ready for departure."

Grell was fussing with his rather drab, scrub-like attire and emitting comments about how distasteful it was. To other reapers, he still appeared as himself. To mortals, however, both he and Jeffries appeared as bald as other holocaust victims, ready to be transported to one of the largest concentration camps in Europe like all the other unfortunates that fell under the knife.

"It is only temporary," William reminded. "And an illusion, insofar as the hair. Do the task set before you, Sutcliff."

He was frankly grateful that he hadn't been able to procure approval from the board to have Grell and his partner masquerade as Nazi soldiers for this. Grell might have no issues finding a way to appear to follow orders to cut down the young and the old that might try to flee, but one couldn't expect as much from a green reaper like Alexander.

"Says the man who gets to look sharp in a uniform."

"Do I have to wear the tie so tight? It's choking me." Ron complained, fiddling with the tie of his uniform, "Who wears ties to war, anyway?"

"People that wish to maintain a professional appearance, regardless of the task before them," answered William readily. "We wear ties to reap the dead and dying, Mr. Knox. I hardly see much of a difference."

He looked at Grell and Alexander. "Stay alert; the both of you. We shall depart with the reminder that these assignments are much more dangerous than any we have undergone before. Immortal or not, being blown to pieces in a moment of carelessness would not be conductive to good health."

He adjusted his hat and his glasses, and he nudged Ronald and nodded meaningfully at the portal awaiting the two of them. Each of them had been assigned portal tracking devices in the event that previously assigned portals needed to be moved to safer locations on the mortal side. In addition, the portal trackers had a map and coordinate feature to help them find their way around Europe.

"Good luck to you, gentlemen," he called as he and Ronald stepped through their portal.

Alexander looked at his assigned partner, then at the portal opposite to the one Spears and Knox had gone through. "Well, at least I'll get the chance to check out the German engineering in this time period in person, instead of books. Ready, Mr. Sutcliff? I mean Miss?"

He was still getting used to Grell's preference to be addressed with female pronouns—though William and Ronald didn't seem to use them.

"Oh, aren't you cute. Flattery won't get you far in my book, though. You have to prove to me what you can do out on the field, first. Potential means nothing. Remember that. Take care of yourself, because I won't be your knight in shining armor. I have no interest in damsels in distress." Grell said, shooing the boy towards the portal.

Alexander merely shrugged, smiled and nodded in agreement.

* * *

><p>Interestingly enough, William and Ronald's first assignment list did indeed take them to mortal Berlin—right in the middle of a bomb raid by United Kingdom's Royal Army. According to the information from Berlin Dispatch, the death toll for this event would stretch out for two full days and nights. They arrived inside a damaged warehouse, somewhere on the outer western part of the city. William could sense the death all around him as the planes flew overhead, dropping bombs into the city.<p>

"It must have just begun," he remarked to his companion, pulling out his small flashlight. "Ronald, let me see your cover Identification. I want to be sure everything is in order."

He was kicking himself for failing to do so before they left, but this entire situation had sprung up so quickly and his mind was racing.

Ronald jumped as another explosion was heard in the distance and he tugged out his identification badges, "Which one?" he asked. It wasn't his first war as a reaper, but in the Great War, he'd been kept on Civilian Collections. He never saw a battlefield, and it was intimidating. Death hung in the air so thick it was overwhelming to his senses and put him on edge. "Uh…are you sure you want…me out here with you?" He asked, eyes scanning over the scene before them.

"You won't do very much good cowering in here, will you? The identification badge you will be using here in this realm, if you please."

When Ronald handed it over, William shone the flashlight on it and he frowned in confusion. "This name is Italian, not German."

He himself was going by the alias of "Christian Heinrich", and Ronald was supposed to be an adjutant under his command. Then he recalled that the blond could speak Italian, and Italy was allied with the Nazis as part of the axis. He breathed a little easier. The SS-Freiwilligen Division wasn't just made up of Germans, and though most of the rest was composed of Ukrainian, Czech and Dutch volunteers, it wasn't beyond reason that an Italian could join it.

"This will do," he said with a nod, handing the badge back to his companion. He'd been prepared to tell Ronald to keep his mouth shut at all times and let him do all the talking if they needed to interact with any live Nazis, but he supposed he could pass for an Italian recruit. Not all of them were dark skinned and dark-haired, after all.

Another bomb came down a block away, lighting up the sky and making the ground and the building shake. William looked up at the ceiling as bits of debris came down, and he grabbed Ronald's arm. "We'd best get started. Stay close, Knox. Focus on the job and work swiftly."

"Shouldn't you be calling me Mosca, Mister _Heinrich_? Or…what rank are you? It'd be good to know what to address you as once we are out there." Ronald pointed out as they hurried out of the building. He'd been assigned the name of "Nereo Mosca" after mentioning that he was half Italian and could speak the language fluently. Not the name he would have picked, but it hadn't been the time to be picky. "I'm just an officer, right?"

"Correct," replied William with a nod. "You are an executive officer and my adjutant. I am a major. For now, we can go with the premise that you act as an interpreter for me when I have liaisons with Italian military personnel within the axis."

He changed his accent suddenly, taking on a German one but still speaking English. "Many senior officers can speak at least rudimentary English, so it would benefit us to have the ability to speak one common tongue in order for this act to work. Can you put on an Italian accent, Herr Mosca?"

"I can." Ronald nodded, twisting his words with the accent. It was easy to do, though he hadn't spoken his mother's language since he'd been human. "Does it sound alright? I haven't done it in decades."

William nodded. "It will do. Just remember that should it come to answering questions, we have been sent to assess the situation and report back to our superiors. So long as we avoid being seen by the living whilst on our assignments, it should not come to that. The mortal militias will be far too occupied in this chaos to pay much attention to a pair of officers moving amongst the dead, if we should happen to be spotted."

He offered his hand to Ronald. "Now come with me. We have a very busy night ahead of us."

Screaming civilians ran by outside the warehouse, and another bomb struck less than a block away.

Ronald blinked down at William's hand and slowly took it, "Alright…"

William pulled him along with him and he honed in on the first target, practically dragging Ronald along with him. "I shall collect," he called out over the noise. "You keep an eye out, for now. Understand? _Ronald_! Do you understand me?"

He cupped the blond's face, practically having to shout at him over the noise surrounding them. Knox looked stunned by the destruction around them. William didn't mind taking on the collection assignments, but he needed his companion to be alert and warn him if anything harmful was coming their way.

"Look at me," he coaxed. His division was so terribly unprepared for this. Was he wrong to choose Knox?

"Look at me," he urged again, his sharp features lit up by the flames. "I need you to focus, Ronald Knox."

Ronald's eyes were wide. Death wasn't new to him by a long shot—but the amount of bodies. The cries, screams, shouts…gunfire and explosions… The further into the battle they got the more overwhelming it became.

There was so much dirt and smoke in the air, it'd be hard to tell by sight and smell alone if there were demons prowling about. But he nodded, "I understand, sir."

William studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "Very good. Stay close. I will require your diligence while I collect."

He found his first target among the smoky rubble, calling out in German when he saw the two reapers. William approached the pinned solider and he spoke to him softly as he drew his scythe.

"Your trials are over," he said, and then the pole of his scythe shot out and punctured the dying soldier, releasing a flood of records.

"Ronald, keep me covered," he said to his companion as he began to collect the reels with his scythe.

Ronald looked about them as his partner collected, his eyes catching sight of a quick moving object headed strait for them, "Duck!" He cried, pulling William down and out of the path of the bullet that whizzed over their heads.

William dropped with his companion, keeping his complaints to himself. He was still collecting the records and he somehow managed to hold onto his concentration and keep drawing them while hunkering low. "Well done," he approved, seeking out the source of the bullet. It seemed to have come from a panicked soldier off to the left, who was suffering a severe case of dismemberment. His left leg had been blown off.

After checking the death list given to them, William nodded his way. "Reap that one, Ronald, while I finish here."

"Yes, sir." Ronald nodded, hurrying over to the fallen, dying man and summoning his scythe. He had taken Grell's advice and had grabbed his old scythe before he got his mower. It was his training scythe, but it had been modified slightly before he switched to his new one. The handle was longer, and the blade had a swirled pattern etched into the blade. He raised it and used it to release the man's records and start collecting them, "It's not nice to shoot at your reapers, you know."

William finished with his collection and he went to Ronald's side, eyeing the sky warily. More planes were flying overhead, and he heard the ominous whistle as they dropped bombs. "Do hurry, Ronald. We need to avoid being out in the open for too long.

As if to accentuate his point, one of the bombs struck the warehouse they'd just left moments ago, and William shielded his companion's bodily as flaming debris flew through the air. It wouldn't do for Ronald to lose his concentration and end up in a struggle with the records. They could turn hostile on him if he slipped up, and William knew from experience how unpleasant that could be.

"Done!" Ron said as the last of the records were collected into his scythe's blade, "How many more do we have?" He knew there was a lot, and they'd only collected two, but he didn't like it on the battle field.

"Nineteen tonight," answered William with a glance at the death list. "Come…this way."

He started off down an alley so that they would have at least some measure of cover, guiding his companion through the ravaged streets to their next target. They found her lying in a pool of her own blood outside a bakery. William dispatched her quickly, and then he grabbed Ronald without warning and shoved him up against the building. The ground shook and the street cracked as another bomb dropped, barely half a street away. A piece of flying glass cut William's cheek and he grimaced without vocal complaint, putting one gloved hand against the bleeding cut. It began to close immediately.

Even though he knew the wound was minor and would heal within seconds, Ronald gasped when he saw the glass cut his boss' handsome face, and he caught himself reaching up to touch it, though he managed to stop himself. It was silly to worry over such a thing, after all. And second later, it had healed, though blood was still smeared over William's cheek. Ronald pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe the blood away.

"Thank you," said William, faintly surprised by the action. Ronald must be more shaken than he let on. He'd never seen him concerned like this before…but this was a rather stressful situation. He'd surprised himself with his own protective actions, actually. With a glance around to be sure it was safe to move on again, William nodded and took the younger reaper's arm. "We'd best get moving before the next bombardment. I don't fancy the thought of dodging more explosions like that."

"Or getting hit by one and spending time in the hospital getting pieced back together…" Ronald agreed under his breath as they hurried on, looking for their targets in the ruins and bodies.

* * *

><p>-To be continued<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

On they went through the night, seeking shelter when the Royal Army dropped more bombs and doing their best not to attract the attention of the few mortals still out and about. It was one of the most difficult collection assignments William had ever seen. They had to reap a couple of children and even an infant in the process. He quietly worried that Ronald might break over that, but he was one of the most objective reapers of his generation, and the blond held strong. By the time they finished their assigned task, both of them were exhausted, and the bombing raid had finally come to an end.

The sun was beginning to rise as they made their way to the open portal to the Shinigami realm at the northern edge of the city, their feet dragging with weariness. As they approached the portal, William looked at his companion; who for once was quiet and rather subdued. "Good work, Knox," he offered—and coming from him, praise was a rare thing. "You may finally achieve that long sought-after promotion, if you continue to perform like this."

It was going to get harder before it got easier, but at least they hadn't run into any demons during this assignment. He imagined it was too difficult for the creatures to form a contract in the face of such swift death. Sutcliff and Jeffries were more likely to face demonic activity with their assignments than he and Knox were, in fact. The concentration camp prisoners had time to build up desperation and bitterness as they watched family and friends get executed, after all.

"It's just…my job." Ronald mumbled as they approached the portal back to the safety of their realm, "I should be able to handle this just as well as the collections I did back home in London. Young women and babies die all the time."

But it wasn't the same, and he knew it. He was used to such death being caused by illness or a hard life and lack of nutrition. Sometimes abuse—which was hard on him, but he managed. War, however, was needless. He felt more like his work was adding to the suffering of the world rather than ending suffering. So many casualties; so many lives that otherwise would have lived much longer if the violence of war hadn't intervened and changed fate.

However, a good reaper never let his emotions affect his job. They had no place on the field, and Ronald wasn't about to let them all out in front of his boss who had just praised him for his performance on the field—which admittedly wasn't his best work. More than a few times he'd been shocked and William had to snap him back into the right mind-set.

William paused at the portal, his soot-smudged face turning toward the bomb-ravaged city. "It goes beyond that," he murmured. "You have never been subjected to working under conditions like this. Nor have I, for that matter. Barring demonic interference, the only real threat we usually face on the job is the risk of cinematic records becoming hostile and overwhelming us. Had this been an ordinary assignment, we no doubt would have finished in half the time. This is far more brutal than our usual work, Mr. Knox."

Confident now that he'd chosen his partner for this endeavor wisely, William nodded at the portal. "We should go now, while it is still quiet enough to get through without obstacles. Our belongings should be waiting at our accommodations on the other side, and we can shower, eat and rest up after turning in our collections and reports. I believe we'll have one day's reprieve before we must move on to the next location with our new death list."

Ronald nodded and stepped up to the portal, pausing just as he was about to step through, "First shower dibs." He said before hopping through before William could protest—assuming he would.

With a sigh, the older reaper followed.

* * *

><p>They turned in their collections and reports first, and then they went straight to the hotel they'd been assigned to. While waiting on his turn for the shower, William phoned room service for some breakfast and then he called London Dispatch to relay his report to Eric and Alan personally. Berlin Dispatch was going to send copies anyhow, but he felt more secure giving his own verbal account of their endeavors.<p>

"So how was tha first day, boss?" Eric asked him.

"Bloody awful," admitted William, too tired to play it off any differently. "We are back at our hotel now, preparing to freshen up and get some rest before moving on. How have things been going over there?"

"Hasnae fallen apart yet," assured Eric. "Al's go' tha paperwork side of it handled an' I'm taking care of reaper dispatching. Try not tae worry 'bout us, Spears. Jus' concentrate in keeping yerself and Ronnie in one piece through this. I dun' want this job permanently."

William smirked wryly, and he glanced at Ronald as the blond came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a damp, mussed hair. "I shall keep that in mind. I'd better let you go now, so that I may get cleaned up. Take care, Mr. Slingby."

He hung up and regarded his youthful companion quietly for a moment. "Our meal should arrive on a cart within the next ten minutes, so do stay awake and listen for the knock while I shower."

"I'll try." Ron yawned, letting himself fall face-first across the foot of the bed closest to the door and bathroom. He then rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, "Water pressure is low in the shower, fair warning."

With a groan, he pushed himself up and walked over to the drawer where he'd tossed his few belongings that he didn't need in the bathroom, taking out a fresh pair of bright orange boxers to put on. While he preferred sleeping in the nude, he was sharing a room with his boss—who might not appreciate having such a sight. And the last thing they needed was an awkward disagreement. They were partners for the next unknown amount of months, after all. Best to keep the peace.

William bowed his head once he was in the shower, closing his eyes as he let the warm, weak spray rain on him. The current state of affairs in the mortal realm affected him more than he let on. These were his mother's people, committing these crimes against humanity. True they were mortal and she'd been a reaper, but he felt a sense of shame nonetheless. He honestly chose Grell to oversee the assistance in the concentration camps because he wasn't entirely sure he could bear to do it himself.

He remained that way for a while, just letting the water wash over him as if it could wash away his feelings. When it started to go cool, he hurried it up and lathered his body with the cake of soap, before shampooing and rinsing his hair. When he came out he found that the food had arrived and Ronald was sleepily eating his share at the little table, dressed in a pair of orange boxers that would have really clashed on most anyone else—yet they suited him. The boy had one elbow propped on the table and his cheek resting in his palm as he ate with half-closed eyes.

Smirking a little at the sight, William tightened the belt of his bathrobe and he went to retrieve his own plate. "Try not to plant your face in your meal, Ronald," he warned as he joined him at the table. He poured himself some juice from the pitcher and he solicitously refilled the blond's glass.

"At least the pillow would be tasty." Ron shrugged, nodding in thanks for the refill, "And I am almost done and can soon move back over to the bed." He straitened in the chair and stretched, "Feels nice to be clean again, though. Today was…rough…"

William nodded in accord. "Agreed." He cut off the end of a sausage and pierced it with his fork. "Thankfully, we have time to rest and recuperate before moving on."

He was vaguely grateful as well that they'd seen fit to put them in a room with twin beds. Sleeping in the same one as Ronald might prove awkward, as he was quite used to sleeping alone and he had no idea of the blond's sleeping habits. He looked out the window when he heard a tap against the glass, and he found a pigeon looking in at them curiously. A rare smile curved the brunet's lips as he thought of his own bird companions at home. Without a thought for it, he tore off a couple pieces of his croissant and got up with them in his palm.

"No need to be alarmed, friend," he murmured as he slowly opened the window and the bird hastily backed up a little. He only opened it enough to slip his hand underneath and deposit the offering on the sill. "There you are. Enjoy."

The pigeon regarded the pieces of bread curiously, before cooing and approaching it with caution. William stood back and watched the animal enjoy the treat, feeling oddly comforted by its presence.

"You like birds?" Ron asked, shoveling the last bite of his supper into his mouth and moving to put the dishes he used back on the tray it had been brought up to them on.

William nodded. "I've developed a certain mild affection for some species, yes. Pigeons are quite social, and they make good message carriers."

He turned from the window and he went back to the table to finish his meal. Not usually one for small talk, he realized he didn't know much about Ronald Knox aside from his love for partying and sleeping. He was a good agent aside from those two factors, but that was the extent of his knowledge. Generally not the sort to seek out personal information about his subordinates, William found himself curious. He watched the younger reaper put away his dishes and he looked away when Ronald bent over.

"Have you a favorite animal, Knox?" he queried conversationally, putting his attention firmly on his unfinished food.

"Mmm, sure." Ronald shrugged, straitening up and climbing into the bed he had claimed as his for their stay in Germany, "I'm fond of foxes. I found a baby kit when I was four or five, and I thought it was a puppy. its mother had been caught by hunters in a fox hunt and so I took it home with me and begged my parents to let me keep it…I named it 'Puppy'."

William snorted softly. "And did they allow you to keep it?"

"Eventually." Ron nodded, "Until it pooped in my mom's shoe."

William coughed on his juice, and he quickly covered his mouth with a napkin. "I…see." He didn't know why he was so interested in the boy's past; except that it help relieve him of his own inappropriate turmoil. "What happened with this fox kit after that?"

"It was grown by then. My father took it away and I cried and threw a fit. I still don't know what happened to him."

"Pity," offered William solicitously—and he was actually sincere about that. "My parents never allowed pets of any sort."

He finished off his hash and started on the sausage. "That was why I spent so much time in the park, feeding the pigeons. I also constructed a bird feeder in our yard to attract visitors. My father caught me petting a dove that had become familiar enough with me to allow my approach, and he lectured me about lice and diseases the animals carry. Of course that seemed ridiculous to me, considering reapers are immune to disease and parasites find us unpalatable. I still believe he saw it as a weakness, to express fondness for other creatures."

William smirked without amusement. "It's a wonder the man managed to marry and reproduce at all. He seemed incapable of love."

"You mean there's a guy out there who's even more all-business-no-play than you? Scary. Wouldn't want to meet that guy." He adjusted the pillows on the bed and laid down, "Do you have a pet bird now, then? You're an adult, free from Daddy's 'no affection allowed' rules."

"Just the pigeons I sometimes use to relay messages when I'd rather not use a telephone," answered the brunet.

He finished the rest of his meal and his drink, and then he put his plate back on the tray and wheeled it out for room service to pick up. He went to his suitcase to select his pajamas for the night and then he excused himself to the bathroom to put them on. When he emerged again, he was dressed in a pair of plain, royal blue silk pajama bottoms. He went to the unclaimed bed and turned it down, before climbing in and dimming the lamp.

"Sleep well, Mr. Knox," he offered with a yawn. "And for once, you will not be penalized for sleeping in when morning comes. We do need to be up and moving again by noon, however."

"Fair warning…I'm not a morning person." Ron yawned, "Grell usually assaults me with a pillow or something to get me up. I like sleep." He shifted in bed with a groan, cradling his face in a pillow, "Night, Senpai." he took off his glasses and set them on the table between the beds.

William watched the younger reaper for a few moments as Ronald closed his eyes, and then it occurred to him that he was staring—and he'd neglected to remove his own glasses. He remedied that and placed them next to Ronald's, nearly missing the nightstand on his first try. Though it was a trait of their kind to have poor vision and require glasses by puberty, William's eyesight was particularly bad. Thankfully it hadn't gotten any worse in the past decade, but where most reapers could see at least three feet in front of them clearly enough to function without spectacles, he sadly could not.

Perhaps that was a good thing, though. If he could see nothing of his companion save a blur of yellow-blond and fair skin, the temptation to stare was eliminated. The boy was attractive to look at…perhaps _too_ attractive. The last thing William needed to be doing while on this assignment was entertaining inappropriate thoughts concerning his chosen partner.

It made him wonder if he'd subconsciously picked Ronald for reasons beyond practicality.

* * *

><p>William was woken up by a phone call around noon. He groaned and reached for his glasses first, then the device after putting them on. When he saw the time on the clock, he groaned again. He'd overslept and apparently neglected to set the clock.<p>

"Spears," he said simply.

"Good afternoon, Herr Spears," said the voice of the Berlin Dispatch supervisor on the other end. "I received a call from your hotel manager that you did not come to the door when room service attempted to bring your clean uniforms. Is there a problem?"

"_Nein_, no problem," assured William, grimacing at his own irresponsibility. "I'm afraid my partner and I slept in. I mustn't have heard them knocking."

"Ah, that is understandable," assured the other man. "Well, you will find your clothing outside your door. I hope you are rested enough to continue to your next assignment?"

"Yes, of course." William pulled the covers down and sat up, stretching a bit. "We shall pack up immediately and drop off our luggage at Headquarters when we retrieve our next assigned death list. I apologize for the delay."

"So long as you reach Warsaw by this afternoon," said the German supervisor. "There will be an uprising in the ghetto beginning there, and many lives on both sides will end as a result. I believe your other companions were sent there as well, so while your targets will differ, you may find yourselves working alongside them."

"I see," murmured William. He glanced over at Ronald. That might please him, to be reunited with his mentor under such strenuous circumstances…though he loathed the thought of the chaos he and Grell might get up to. "I shall wake and inform my companion immediately. _Danke schön.__"_

William hung up and climbed out of the bed. He bent over Ronald and he shook his shoulder. "Knox, wake up. We've overslept, and we need to be on our way to our next destination."

The sleeping blond gave a moan, curling up and hiding further under his blankets, seemingly unaware of William's words. It felt so good to be within slumber's embrace. His body warm and comfortable, his mind lost within his dreams…he didn't want to leave it.

William sighed and shook him again. "Ronald, get up. I'm afraid we've both indulged ourselves too much and we must be on our way. I don't have time for this nonsense."

"Grell, no. Nah gonna work 'gain…" Ron mumbled into the blankets covering his head, "Y'suck't tryin' ta sound li' Wi'sexy… I muss insist ya stahp… I wan'… no…won't say."

William raised a brow, unable to make out most of what he said and finding it a bit surreal. "I'm not Sutcliff, Mr. Knox. Please do me the favor of not comparing me to him again."

He yanked the covers down…and his other brow immediately migrated upward to join the first. Ronald had a rather obvious case of "morning wood". So obvious, in fact, that William could see the head of his endowments peeking out of the flaps of his fly. He stared for a moment, blinking, and then hastily pulled the covers back over the blond. Face heating, William took a moment to compose himself before nudging Ronald again, more roughly.

"Ronald Knox," he barked, "Get up…er…wake up this instant! We have somewhere to be."

His mind went to inappropriate, dirty places as he considered other, more gratifying ways he could wake the heavy-sleeping agent, and he berated himself for it. "Must I toss ice water on you?"

Ronald groaned, rolling onto his back, the blanket pitching a tent as he did so. He really didn't want to wake up yet, but an annoying, persistent voice was tearing him from the imaginary embrace of the person he had a crush on. The reality started to break through the fantasy.

Slowly, he cracked open his eyes and rubbed them, "Whaa?"

William averted his gaze, keeping his expression a cool mask despite his inward feelings. "We need to dress, check out and go to headquarters right away, Knox. We are due to depart for Warsaw soon. I overslept as well because I failed to set the alarm properly, and now we are running late."

Ron groaned louder, "Fuck… —wait. You're Spears!" Ron gasped, sitting up, "Not Grell—wait! Oh! Germany and the stupid war thing…Shit! I didn't say anything weird, did I?"

William nearly smirked. "You always say something 'weird' when woken from sleep, from my experience. This time it was mostly indecipherable babbling, however. The most I could get out of it was that you apparently mistook me for Grell."

Turning away from him, William went to the door to collect their uniforms from the hallway. He brought them back in and set them on his bed. "I'm going to dress in the bathroom. I advise you to do the same out here whilst I do so. We'll get some coffee at Headquarters before we leave and if there is time, we can get a bite to eat as well."

Trying not to think of the state of arousal Ronald was in, William gathered his uniform and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.

"…I wish he would have given me the bathroom… cold water would help…" Ron muttered, sliding out of bed and starting to dress himself, tucking himself away and trying to hide his aroused state in the fitted slacks.

William splashed some cold water on his face, gave his teeth a quick brush and changed into his uniform…sans hat. He carried the hat tucked beneath one arm and the pajama bottoms tucked under the other as he exited the bathroom. He thought better of just stepping right out into the main room when he realized Knox might still be changing.

"Ronald, are you decent?"

"Not if I'm a girl." Ron smirked. He was half dressed, shirt still open as he used the mirror on the wall over the table to fix his hair; his comb attempting to tame his wild blond and black locks of hair.

Figuring that was decent enough, William stepped out. He glanced at Ronald and made himself look away quickly, finding the sight of him with his shirt hanging open far too distracting—which was strange, considering he'd seen him in nothing but a pair of boxers…and more of him than expected, at that. He packed away his pajama pants and he began to check the room for anything he might have missed.

"You may be pleased to know that our next assignment takes us to the very place Sutcliff and Jeffries were deployed," he informed Ronald. He closed his suitcase and set it on the bed. "Their collection assignments will be the 'residents' of the Warsong ghetto, however, while ours will be the SS soldiers that are destined to die in the upcoming conflict. We are to concentrate on our own collections and move on when finished, leaving them to their task unless either of our teams run into opposition and must take up arms."

He actually dreaded this assignment. An uprising, the Berlin director had called it. That meant that the Jewish residents there must be preparing to resist Nazi attempts to gather them up and take them to concentration camps…or extermination camps. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and he made his bed. When he finished with that, he bent over to check under it and be sure none of his belongings were beneath it.

Ron walked into the bathroom to get help from water for his hair before brushing his teeth and walking back out, buttoning his shirt and tucking it in, "I'm not sure I want to see where Grell-senpai is working, to be honest." Ron muttered, "I think it'd be worse than a battle field or bombing sight. —where's my tie?"

William looked around for it, frowning. "Check the pockets of you uniform. They might have put it in there."

Ron walked over and checked the pockets of his jacket, and he shook his head, "Nope."

William sighed and went to the hotel phone to call laundry service, speaking in German. "Yes, this is William T. Spears in room B-12. You picked up our laundry for cleaning yesterday and I'm afraid my traveling companion is missing his tie." He described it to them and he asked if it was still there. "I see. Well, I expect you to deduct the cost from the bill, then. Good day."

He looked at Ronald and shook his head. "It seems they misplaced it." He went to his luggage and opened it up, searching through the carefully organized selection of clothing pieces until he found a tie that matched the one Ronald lost. "Here, take this one. I shall have to be more observant, the next time I hand over our laundry to someone else to wash. That, or we should do our own laundry from here on out."

"Do you think we could survive doing it ourselves? We were dead by the time we got back here to our hotel." Ronald pointed out, taking the tie and securing it around his neck before putting on his jacket and hat.

William almost said that of course they could…but he hadn't done his own laundry since he got promoted to executive supervisor. The SS uniforms weren't exactly cheap to come by, either. "Well then, we shall just have to be more careful about checking our clothing when it returns, to be certain nothing is missing. Are you almost ready to go, Knox?"

"I suppose so." Ron said, making sure he had his identification badges in his pocket and picking up his small bag of personal items, "Lets go." he placed his hand on Will's shoulder, frowning, "It's going to be another long day…isn't it?"

The brunet resisted a sigh and he put his uniform hat on. "I'm afraid so. Possibly quieter than our first assignment, but I must warn you this will be more difficult to remain detached from."

He'd heard stories about those targeted by the Nazi's being relocated, only to wind up in extermination camps. The massacre had begun. "Ronald, we must count on each other, and we must stay alert. Perhaps it will make our progress slower, but should it become too much to handle—for either of us—its best that we take a break to collect ourselves."

It was the closest he'd come to admitting how deeply this situation was affecting him. He could hardly believe he'd hinted as much to Ronald Knox; but he honestly couldn't think of anyone else in their department he would have rather revealed it to. He looked at him, his sculpted features cool and calm despite his inward trepidation.

"We are exemplary agents of London reaper Dispatch," he murmured, "and we shall do our jobs to our best abilities…even if it means completing our assignments more slowly than usual. Do you agree?"

"Yes, sir." Ronald nodded, "It's already been hard enough to keep emotions off the field. I don't think I would be able to work with Grell-senpai in the camps."

He shook his head and walked over, opening the door for William, "Better to show weakness by needing a break than break down completely."

William gave a nod and he walked through the door, pulling his wheeled suitcase behind him. "This is why I chose Sutcliff for that particular line of assignments. He has his faults—many of them—but he's comparably ruthless in the field and he's not the sort to allow emotion to trouble him overly…unless he get snubbed by a man he clings to."

The last was spoken with a hint of old annoyance. Heavens, how he wished Grell would find someone suitable to his needs that reciprocated his advances. It would make working with him so much easier.

* * *

><p>They arrived at Berlin headquarters a short while later, and they put their luggage into transport before collecting their lists for the next location, along with coordinates to their arranged accommodations on the reaper side. When William saw the document concerning said accommodations, he pursed his lips.<p>

"They have housed us in the same bed and breakfast as Sutcliff and Jeffries," he sighed.

"Shouldn't matter. We'll be dead by the end of our shift, and if not, it'd be nice to talk with them, see how they are doing and handling collecting in such…evil places." Ron shrugged, looking over the names on his collection list, "Wish this thing wasn't in German. I can't read the details at all—and I'm not just saying that because I don't want to do this."

William looked over Ronald's shoulder at the list. "Not to worry. I can guide us. You can be my eyes and ears while I work on reaping. You've proven to have quick reflexes."

"Yeah….sorry that I smacked our heads together helping you duck debris at the end of our day…that was an accident." Ron said, handing over the list, "Hopefully I won't do that again. But you can count on me, sir."

William folded and tucked the list into his pocket. "Better it be our heads smacking together than a sheet of flying metal decapitating us both. There is nothing to apologize for, Knox."

They made it to the next portal and William took a slow, cleansing breath. "Well then, shall we?"

"Ladies, first." Ron smirked, gesturing to the portal. He straitened when William shot him an un-amused look. "Fine, fine. Just trying to start the day out better than it'll end," he muttered, stepping through.

* * *

><p>They arrived in Warsaw to the sight of a sprawling mess of a ghetto. There were so many people…dirty people, starving people…and SS troops patrolling the streets. William glanced at Ronald, before looking over the death list. "Our first target is scheduled to die within an hour," he informed him. "I think we should locate him and be ready, before we attempt to make contact with our London associates here."<p>

"This place…feels like Hell itself…" the blond muttered, "Hell, it is Hell to all these people…" he added, looking out at the shaved, malnourished people. Their rags hardly covered their skeleton-like bodies. If death had been thick in the air at the bombing site, it was physically overwhelming here. Death's grip was clinging to everyone—it was only a matter of time.

He tore he gaze away, hating that he couldn't help them. That he was only there to collect the souls of the men who have done this to countless innocent souls.

"Yeah…let's go find him."

William glanced at him, compressing his lips. He heard whispers from the residents of the upcoming uprising as they passed along.

"We cannot simply let them do this…"

"…they want to kill us all…"

"Why, Mama…why do they hate us?"

William had to stop suddenly.

"Knox," he called. "One moment."

The child that wanted to know why they hated them would be amongst the casualties. He had to take a few deep breaths. He was too proud to break down, but as soon as his companion's form came into view, he mentally clung to it.

_~Not alone…not alone…they did not and will not die alone. Someone is at their side. Gods…how can humans bear it?~_

He sucked in a harsh breath, putting his gloved hands against his forehead. Starved of food, starved of any sort of dignity…and this was the legacy put forth to his mother and her people.

"Just one moment," he said to his companion, "I…just need a moment."

Ronald was glad he couldn't understand the words being said all around him. The desperation in their weak voices was enough to make him almost lose it. But William wasn't so lucky; being able to understand each and every German word uttered. And when the man called for him, Ronald was quick to rush to his side again, reaching out and touching his shoulder in comfort. "Are you alright, sir?"

William swallowed and nodded, pulling himself together. His companion's touch was surprisingly helpful to him…seemed to ground him. "Yes. I apologize for the lapse. It will begin soon, and I have a location on our first target."

He looked at him, schooling his face back into a calm mask. "Thank you, Knox."

"Any time." Ron nodded, knowing that this wasn't the time or place for his jokes.

They made their way through the ghetto, concealed from mortal sight except for those who were near death. They passed by an old woman dying in the arms of her husband and she reached out to them, speaking Romanian. William kept his gaze decisively fixed ahead, knowing that some other reaper would soon collect her. Sure enough, he spotted a pair of agents dressed in the Warsaw Dispatch division's uniforms, and they exchanged salutes with him as they passed, neither questioning nor pausing their trajectory. He saw a familiar flash of read as he and Ronald turned down a smaller street and he sighed. Sutcliff and Jeffries were in the town square, standing by one of the dilapidated buildings that might have once been a shop of some sort. Now it was filled with more than one family of squatters, like most of the buildings in the city.

As he and Ronald approached the first SS officer due to die in the impending conflict, Alexander noticed them and he nudged his companion, pointing. William gave them both a nod as Sutcliff turned to look at them. He could see beneath their illusionary disguise, and he got some small sense of amusement at the thought of how it must rankle the flamboyant redhead to be stuck wearing rags.

"Think they are doing okay here?" Ronald asked under his breath, nodding at the two reapers as he and William moved on to keep an eye on their first target, "This place is…heavy."

"Sutcliff I'm sure has managed just fine," answered William softly. His eyes studied Alexander. "His assigned partner, however, may not be enduring the situation with complete objectivity."

Indeed, Alexander looked a bit worse for the wear. He kept jumping at sounds and he had his custom scythe out—a tool in the form of a black and gold weed-eater, which like Ronald's lawnmower was an invention yet to be made in the mortal realm. William detected the sound of yelling, followed by a group of heavy footsteps coming their way. The SS soldiers looked around suspiciously, hands on their weapons.

"It's about to begin," murmured William. "Be ready for it, Ronald."

"Huh? Oh…yeah." Ronald tore his gaze away from their comrades and summoned his scythe to his hand, following William closely as things started to get louder. "This is going to be messy," he muttered, eyeing all the guns officers were pulling out.

A mass of ghetto residents came into view from around the corner of a building, armed with whatever they could find. Kitchen knives, poles, pipes, crude weapons fashioned from scrap metal, and even rocks and slingshots. One of them pointed at the SS patrol and shouted something in Polish. He fired at the man close to William with a gun he'd somehow managed to procure from somewhere, and the Dispatch supervisor sidestepped as the SS officer fell, clutching his spraying neck. The angry, desperate shouts of the mob filled the air, and the German troops banded together in the square and began firing at will.

William began to reap his first target, with Ronald guarding him in case of stray bullets and keeping an eye out for demonic activity. Across the way, Alexander started up his weed whacker to reap one of the fallen rebels, while Grell's chainsaw roared to life and took care of another one. William thought he saw one of the Warsaw dispatch officers off to the left collecting his own marks, and as the chaos grew, the reaper teams worked in conjunction with each other, instinctively giving one another room without the need for communication.

William heard the rattle of a machine gun going off just as Ronald finished collecting their second mark, and he saw one of the Polish Dispatch officers get hit by bullets intended for one of the rioters that he was standing too close to. He grabbed Ronald's arm and nodded toward the man meaningfully, not bothering trying to shout over all the noise. The Polack's partner was trying to drag him away from the chaos and take cover to see to his injuries, but he was having trouble doing so and dodging bullets at the same time.

"Should we cover them?" Ron shouted over all the noise, "So he can get his partner out of line of fire and further injury?" He knew they were supposed to stick to their own lists, but if the reaper got too injured, even by mortal weapons, he'd be out of commission to heal for a few days—which wasn't ideal in a war situation.

William nodded and started off, leading the way through embattled bodies and whizzing bullets. He couldn't speak Polish, but he gestured at the stricken reaper when they arrived and he made a lifting gesture, before pointing to himself and Ronald. The injured one's partner nodded and said something that might have been a "thank you", and the two British agents assisted him in lifting his companion and carrying him off into an unoccupied little storage building. They set him down carefully in the back corner, and his companion shrugged off the medical kit strapped to his back. William did the same with his and while the Warsaw operative began to cut his companion's uniform open to expose the damage, Will gave the wounded one a dose of morphine from a syrette.

"Ronald, help me hold him down while his companion works over him," he said, having to holler over the noise of screams and gunfire. He ignored the shaking, bloody hand that reached up to grip his sleeve. The officer was in shock, instinctively seeking comfort from the first reaper he saw.

Ronald nodded and abandoned his post he had made for himself as a look-out. It wasn't as if they were on a battle field, after all. Nothing was exploding or falling from the sky. They only had to worry about stray bullets; which weren't a problem yet in their location.

The blond crouched down next to the injured reaper, firmly holding him down to help keep him still as the reaper's partner began to dig out the bullet. "Hey, it'll be alright." He offered in a comforting voice between cries of pain.

The injured one's partner said something in Polish that sounded like a question, and Will shook his head grimly. "Apologies," he said in German—just in case the man happened to speak it, "I don't speak the language."

Evidently, neither of the Polish agents spoke German or English—or the injured one was too distracted to answer. As the taller one began to try to work the bullets out, Grell and Jeffries came into the building. William looked up at them. Knowing Grell didn't speak Polish, he inquired of the junior officer assisting him. "Mister Jeffries, can you interpret Polish?"

Alexander blinked and shrugged. "I speak a little, yeah. I'm not fluent, though."

"I need you to ask these officers if they can make it to the nearest portal to their headquarters, or if they will need an escort."

Alexander nodded and started to move away from the open doorway to attempt communication. Before he could take so much as two steps, there was a dull popping sound and he jerked, eyes going wide. He looked down at the blood blossoming on his ragged shirt where the bullet passed through, tearing a hole in flesh and cloth. Shock was evident on his features. He started to buckle and William swore, leaving off the Polish agent for the moment to catch him.

"Grell, shut that bloody door and help me with your partner," he snapped.

"'M okay," Alex tried to reassure, but he coughed blood. "It went all th' way through."

"Yet you still need time for your body to mend the hole it punched through your lung," admonished William, draping one of the younger reaper's arms around his shoulder while putting the other arm around his waist. He half-dragged him over to the crates near the injured Warsaw operative, and he eased him down. "Now sit and rest, while we finish assisting with this man. When you can speak coherently, I want you to convey my inquiry to these men, to the best of your abilities. Sutcliff, see to your partner while we assist with this agent."

"Damn it, can they stop shooting the death gods?!" Ronald cursed, "They should shoot the demons if they can't stick to each other!"

"Ronnie! Toss me your handkerchief." Grell asked, holding out his hand.

Ronald grunted and shifted to get the cloth from his back pocket, tossing it over so that Grell could use it to help apply pressure to Alex's wound.

"Didn't I tell you to not get shot today?" Grell scolded his partner, "I told you to be extra careful with the increased danger of today's death events!"

"Wasn't my fault," coughed Alex. "I was coming in when it hit me. S-sorry, boss Sutcliff."

"Any one of us could be hit by a stray bullet in this conflict," reminded William. "But maintaining a non-corporeal state while reaping is too taxing, and it would attract the attention of any demons in the area. Just concentrate on slowing the blood flow while it mends."

The injured Warsaw operative gagged in pain as his partner removed a second bullet, and he grabbed Ronald's sleeve just for something to hold on to. William glanced at him, then at Jeffries. "Be grateful yours passed all the way through instead of getting lodged. This operative is going to be weakened from blood loss by the time his companion digs out the last of the slugs. Jeffries, do you think you can translate my question to his partner now?"

"I…I'll try," he said, turning his head to look at the Polack. He cleared his throat and relayed William's question to him. At first the man gave him a confused look, and Alex tried again, changing a word or two. The Polish reaper looked down at his partner and he nodded slowly, speaking back to the British operative.

"Uh…he says he wants a prostitute," said Alex uncertainly. "Oh, wait…no. That was escort. Yeah, he says an escort would be helpful."

William nodded. "We'll wait for some of the conflict to die down around us and give both injured parties the chance to close their wounds, before helping these men to their home portal. We all go together. I can sense rising demonic activity in the area and we cannot risk separation at this time."

"Good thing they want an escort. I doubt there are any street walkers anywhere around here." Ron muttered his joke, yet didn't smile as he normally would. He sighed and took the shot reaper's hand, holding it firmly for comfort.

"Not the time for jokes, Ronnie." Grell said, applying more pressure to Alexander Jeffries' wound. "It'd be handy if you would grow the skin back together already…."

"I'm…working on it, sir," promised the auburn-haired reaper with a sickly grin. His bangs had fallen over his eyes and he reached up with a bloody hand to brush them back, only to see the blood and change his mind. He opted to blow said fringe out of his eyes instead. "I think it's closing up already."

The Warsaw agent dug the final bullet out of his companion and with William's help he put pressure on the wounds and waited for them to close up. Bullets couldn't kill them, but enough blood loss could put a reaper into a coma and thus make him vulnerable to demons and any other enemies with the means to kill them.

"Five minutes," said William. "That should be enough time for both of your injuries to close up enough to move you. We cannot remain here in this condition. There is too much demonic activity surrounding us."

"I wish I had brought my mower scythe… It'd clear a path through the demons like that!" Ronald stated, snapping his fingers.

"I have my chainsaw." Grell said, "I'll lead the way."

"Agreed," said William. "Jeffries, please try to convey that plan to our companions."

Alex nodded and clumsily translated for the two Polish officers. He had to try a couple of times to get the message across, but they seemed to get it and they both nodded in agreement.

"Your bleeding has stopped…but don't move yet. You don't want to risk it reopening." Grell sighed, examining his partner's wounds. "So…Willy, how's my little Trainee working out for you as a partner?"

William got up, brushed off his uniform and waked over to the door to open it a crack and check outside. "Ronald has done commendable work on the field since this began," he answered frankly. "His technique could use improvement, but under the circumstances I think he's conducted himself well."

He narrowed his eyes, noting that the activity in the streets outside had ceased. "The conflict has moved to other parts of the ghetto," he announced, looking back at his companions. "This is our chance to leave and escort these gentlemen to their portal. Sutcliff, I would recommend that once we see these Warsaw officers off, you and Jeffries retire to your reaper accommodations for the remainder of the day and pick up where you left off tomorrow. Our orders state that if either partner is significantly wounded, both should take time to recover before resuming assignments. We all need to be at our best in such a situation and it would be quite inconvenient to lose either of you. We are short-staffed enough as it is."

"What about you guys?" asked Jeffries.

William glanced at Ronald. "Considering neither of us is injured, we shall resume our assigned collections for this area after seeing you all safely delivered to your respective portals. There are still other Shinigami operating in this area and each division has been instructed to report any demon sightings to their headquarters, to be relayed to all other operatives in the area. Knox and I should be fine."

"Don't worry about us, Sutcliff-senpai!" Ronald grinned at the redhead, "I'll make sure Spears-senpai stays safe and gets back to London safely—and not missing any pieces! Especially the sexy bits." he winked.

"You make sure you watch out for yourself, too, Ronnie-boy. I'd hate to loose any part of my favorite little brother."

"Very touching," muttered William. "Gentlemen, are you ready?"

Alexander got to his feet with Grell's help, and he relayed the question to the Warsaw agents. The taller of the two helped his recovering partner to his feet and he nodded.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand," grunted Jeffries, more than ready to get out of this place and take a break from the slaughter.

"Very well, then." William took Grell's place supporting Alexander. "Sutcliff, take the lead. Ronald, watch our rear. We'll go straight to these gentlemen's portal first, and then see the two of you off to yours."

"Right away, darling~" Grell said, his scythe appearing in his hand with a flash as he yanked open the doors and ran out. The sound of the motor roaring to life soon joining the sounds of guns and cries. Not looking back to see if the others were following, Grell cut threw a group of lesser demon creatures. Imps that were more a nuisance than a danger compared to the higher ranking demons.

Ronald hurried after the others, keeping an eye out behind them in case some demon attacked from behind or another raid of bullets rained down upon them.

William kept his scythe ready, and Jeffries manifested his as well. The uninjured Warsaw operative also drew his scythe; which was a more practical form like Ronald's in the shape similar to a training sickle. William extended his scythe to pin a demon against the wall in passing that Grell had missed, skewering it and dropping it to the ground as they passed by. This was not good; the place was literally crawling with the denizens of Hell, and they would be fortunate not to encounter any greater demons as they trudged on.

They made it to the Warsaw portal and William hurried his Polish companions through, before casting a grim look at his fellow London officers.

"Keep moving," he ordered. "And for Heaven's sake, watch out for stray bullets."

"Like the one that almost hit your foot?" Grell asked, pointing to the hole in the dirt right next to William's toe.

"Misses are lucky. Lets go before we get pumped full of lead!" Ronald urged, not liking how open the area was around this particular portal.

"Good luck, friends," William said cordially to the two Polish reapers as they went through the portal. He tipped his hat at them as they vanished with thankful farewells, and he looked at his companions.

"Now we need to move south. Sutcliff, are you ready?"

"Duck!" Ron shouted, ducking under the path of a bullet aimed at his head.

"Good eye, Ronnie. Let's go." Grell took off in the lead again. "Incoming demons!" He warned a moment later as dark black creatures caught sight of them and took off towards their small group in obvious hope of getting a collection of fresh souls. Lower demons weren't the smartest things, and didn't know they wouldn't be able to get souls back out of a scythe.

William turned and impaled one of them before it could leap out at Grell. Though he was weakened from his healing injury, Alexander summoned his weed-whacker and got the gold colored blades spinning—just in time to fend off another one that made a try for him.

"Hah! Thought I'd be an easy mark?" he challenged with a grin as the spinning blade cut into the creature's torso.

"Don't get cocky," warned William. "We are fortunate these are lesser devils. It could easily have been something more challenging."

"Yes sir," agreed the junior officer contritely. The only thing scarier than a demon noble was William T. Spears when he was angry. Having been on the receiving end of that anger before, Jeffries could appreciate that and he wisely kept further taunts to himself.

"Uh….We have a problem back here!" Ronald shouted suddenly, his scythe just finished cutting through a small dog-like lesser demon that had jumped him.

But that hadn't been the problem. Beyond Ronald a very large demon that towered over the four reapers. Its round head split open wide by a drooling mouth far too large to look natural and lines with rows of spindled teeth. It's small beady eyes almost non-existent and could only be seen as they glowed red. It had three twisted horns angling out it's skull, it's skin was a black leathery texture covered in a mucus that smelled of decay and bone-like spikes lined down it's back, across it's shoulders, along it's long clawed arms, and covering the backs of it's curved legs. It's feet were more like large deadly needles that it balanced on, and it's long spiked tail hinted at being poisonous with the red and orange tip on a stinger similar to a scorpion's.

It wasn't a demon noble, but it wasn't a simple imp, low-level demon, either. And it's tiny eyes were locked on the four reapers as it charged them. A deafening roar drowned out all other sounds of battle and slaughter.

Alexander took one look behind him and he shouted in alarm and a bit of disgust at the sight of the creature bearing down on them. William fell back with Ronald, urging his other two companions on.

"Leave this one to us," he called out. "Focus on keeping the path ahead clear!"

"R-right," agreed Jeffries with a faintly anxious look. He forced his attention off the large demon and he moved closer to Grell.

William's scythe shot out at the demon, but it avoided the hit with surprising dexterity. Perturbed, he tried again and this time he managed to drive the blade on the end of it home into the demon's shoulder. It roared and grasped the pole of the scythe, yanking it and the reaper attached to the other end of it. "Now, Ronald," hollered William—just before getting slammed into the side of a building.

Assuming William would be bruised, but otherwise fine, Ronald charged the distracted hell-spawn, raising his scythe as he leapt up to attack. The creature was a little more than double his size, so his goal was to leap high enough to get at it's softer bits rather than the bony parts. He could cause it more pain that way and distract it further, hopefully for long enough to where William could shake the blow he'd been dealt and make another attack.

Successfully, he came down, his scythe cutting deep into the creature's stomach and expelling putrid black blood that smelled worse than the mucus. Getting covered in it, the blond gagged and didn't move quickly enough as a bony claw cracked into his side, swatting him away like a fly. He flew a few feet, rolling across the dirt ground and into a puddle near a building.

"Shit…uhg, guy needs more than a bath—Damn…"

William staggered aside just in time to avoid another hit when the demon returned its attention to him, holding onto his glasses to keep them from falling off. He speared it in the side—right next to the wound that Ronald had opened up—and he extended his scythe further to pin it against the wall of the building opposite to him.

"Knox, can you finish him?" he queried, glancing at his companion with veiled concern. He couldn't see any red blood mingling with the black, but the blond seemed to have taken a decent blow. The demon gnashed its razor sharp teeth and tried to grab his pole again. William shoved it harder against the wall, his lips compressed into a grim line.

Ronald groaned and stood up, finding to his surprise that he'd managed to keep a hold of his scythe. Though he staggered to the side, dizzy from all the rolling he'd done. Regardless, he shook his head to try and clear it before charging again.

The demon lashed out with it's deadly tail, and Ronald tripped over it in trying to avoid the stinger. Demonic poison would take a hell of a lot longer to recover from compared to a bunch of bullets.

Again, the demon's tail swung at him, and he had no choice but to defend, swinging his scythe and cutting the stinger off before he could roll over and push himself up.

Ron's head was buzzing from the scream the demon gave off, but he continued on his path, still slightly disoriented. He jumped again, trying for a killing blow as a spiked arm swung back at him. Realizing he'd not make it in time to his target, Ron threw his scythe seconds before he was hit. A bone-like spike impaling him through his rubs just below his heart where it became stuck.

His scythe twirled through the air and at the same time Ronald was hit, his scythe made a clean cut through the demon's neck, nearly decapitating it completely.

Ronald's scream of pain was the only one heard. As the demon staggered forward, it's claw aimed directly at William.

The supervisor managed to dodge enough so that it was only a glancing blow, but he didn't get away unscathed. His uniform got ripped and blood flowed from the scratch he couldn't completely avoid…but his main concern now was for Ronald.

"Sutcliff! Jeffries! Get back here!"

As the demon fell twitching, it dragged poor Ronald with it to the broken pavement. William lunged for the blond and pulled him free of the spike impaling him, clamping a hand over the resulting wound in his torso. "Knox," he murmured, sweat beading his forehead. It was a bad injury, and Ronald was already going pale. He could easily begin going into shock.

"What the hell happened?" demanded Alex, wide-eyed as he came running back and skidded to a stop.

"I think the answer to that question is rather obvious," grunted William. He lifted Ronald carefully in his arms as Grell rejoined them. "Knox, speak to us. Stay alert."

"Nnygh…" Ronald's head lulled against William's arm, "Did…I get 'im?" he coughed, blood peppering his lips.

"I'll kill it!" Grell growled, revving up his scythe to take to the twitching demon, "No one hurts my Ronnie!"

Alexander joined him, starting up his scythe to help him dispatch the creature for good. William kept a wary eye out as he held his injured companion securely. "You did well, Ronald," he assured him. "Just try to stay focused. We will go through the portal with our companions get you some medical attention on the other side."

"It sure got me…" he groaned, starting to shift but regretting it right away as more pain shot through his body. "Sor…ry….Senpai…"

Behind them the demon's records shot into the air, playing out a long, but uneventful life. All the thing ever did was grow and eat. When it was done, the creature's body turned to ash and Grell picked up Ronald's scythe, not wanting it to be left behind where a demon could get a hold of it.

"It's gone—time to move, Will."

William nodded and started off immediately, doing his best not to jar the young reaper in his arms. Jeffries flanked them while Grell took the lead again, both of them keeping an eye out for any further threats. They eventually made it to the open portal, and Will stepped through first with Ronald. There were portal guards waiting on the other side and William quickly gave them his name and rank, unable to show his badge due to having his arms full of his injured partner. He had to direct them to take it out of his jacket pocket themselves for confirmation, and they had to do the same with Ronald.

"Hospital?" he asked, hoping they could understand English or German. Fortunately, they could. After examining Grell and Alex's identification badges, they pointed out the way for them. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said with some relief.

Trusting his companions to keep up with him, he wasted no time. Fortunately, the hospital was in walking distance, so there was no need to hail a cab. By the time he made it up the steps and through the door, he was a bit winded—but he stubbornly refused to let go of Ronald until they brought out a stretcher for him.

"It's going to be all right," he assured the blond as the medical team eased him out of his arms and onto the stretcher. His own blood from the scratch he'd all but forgotten was staining Ron's clothes along with the rest. "Just cooperate with them, Knox. We won't be far."

"You ought to let them check you out too, sir," suggested Alex with a nod at William's arm. "That could go septic fast."

Will glanced down at his arm, just now feeling the pain of the injury. "Yes, that can be seen to after they've bright Ronald to an examination room. His injuries take priority over mine in severity."

"Hate…Hospitals…" Ronald moaned as he was wheeled away quickly. But he was so weak that he couldn't protest, only lay there attempting not to pass out from pain—which turned out to be pointless as they applied a mask to his nose and mouth to make him relax before they started working. At least the pain was gone.

Grell sighed, "As if Jeffries's getting shot and that other guy getting shot wasn't enough… Now Ronnie's got a huge hole in his middle…what's it from? Not a stinger I hope?"

William watched them work over his subordinate from outside the room they'd brought him into, and he shook his head. "No. It was a spike on the foul creature's arm. His body should heal well enough without scarring, but he'll lose too much blood and risk infection if it isn't properly treated and bound."

He sighed, wondering why his heart was beating so fast. He hadn't expected the surge of alarm that went through him when he saw Ronald take that blow. He'd actually believed they might get through this mission unscathed. How wrong he'd been about that.

"Jeffries, how is your injury?" he asked without taking his eyes off Ronald. "Do you believe it needs medical attention?"

The auburn-haired reaper tugged his shirt up a little to look. The bullet hole had already closed and he bore only a faint mark from the experience. "I'm okay, sir. I could just use some rest before going on another reaping assignment, I think."

William nodded. "Good. You and Sutcliff should retire to your accommodations for the rest of the day, then. I shall contact you with an update on Knox's condition when they've finished seeing to him."

What a horrid start to their Warsaw assignments.

Grell looked a little hesitant to leave; he was so used to working with Ronald rather than anyone else. And while Ronald wasn't in the habit of getting seriously injured on the field, they had always stayed by each other's side when either of them got hurt But Ronnie was William's partner currently…

The redhead sighed, "Then you stay with him—and send me word when he's been cleared!"

* * *

><p>-To be continued<p>


	3. Chapter 3

William stood watch over Ronald after they finished up with him and moved him into a private room. Night had fallen, and after getting his own mild injury treated, William went to the hotel room they were staying in to shower, change into more casual attire and bring back Ronald a change of uniform and a pair of his boxers for comfort. He called Sutcliff to update him on their status, turned in their collections and reports and he stopped for something to eat on the way back. Once he returned to the hospital, he couldn't seem to decide what to do with himself.

So he stood there in the dark, waiting for his young partner to awaken and musing over recent events. He told himself he'd fetched clothing for Ronald for practicality's sake. After all, leaving in a hospital gown when he was released would have been rather impractical, and Ronald would need the boxers to wear with his fresh uniform…unless he preferred briefs under his clothing. William hadn't taken the time to go through his bag. He simply grabbed the first pair of underwear and socks he'd seen and combined them with the uniform. They were fortunate that Dispatch had seen fit to order extras for them both. Evidently it was a difficult thing for reaper agents to avoid damaging their assigned uniforms during this war.

Ronald began to fret in his sleep, and William watched him indecisively. It wasn't in his nature to give comfort to others, yet it troubled him to see the boy sweating and writhing, his lips blurting hints of the nightmares that plagued him. After a few moments of this, the Dispatch director approached his subordinate and he leaned over him.

"Ronald Knox," he murmured, "do stop that fussing. You are safe."

It didn't seem to do much good, and William cleared his throat and looked around. For some fool reason, he was self-conscious even though he knew they were alone in the room. Nobody would see it if he offered Knox just a bit of compassion and comfort. He hesitantly reached out to stroke the younger reaper's dual-colored hair, brushing his yellow-blond bangs away from his sweat-beaded forehead.

"Ronald," he said again, placing his other hand atop the boy's. "It's over. You are going to be all right."

Ronald let out a small moan on his breath, his head turning to the right before his eyes fluttered open, slowly blinking at the blurry silhouette standing over him. A gentle hand was stroking his hair back out of his face.

He grimaced as the pain also slowly faded in to his consciousness, "Please tell me you are the angel of painkillers…"

William almost cracked a smile. "Not quite, but they have equipped your glucose drip with a morphine injector." He took his hand off Ronald's and he reached for the trigger button to give it to him. "All you need do is press down on it and it will give you a dose to ease the pain."

He sighed and stepped back, watching as Ronald pressed down on the button. "That was an impressive injury you earned, Knox. I am afraid you'll be out of commission for a couple of days, at least. The doctors say you can possibly be released as early as tomorrow, depending on how quickly you heal. Even so, you aren't to do any further field work until you've rested more. In the meantime, I suppose I shall take on assignments alone, or try to arrange for a temporary partner from within the Warsaw Dispatch. It's a small branch, so I doubt I will have any luck with that."

"Yeah…but who'll watch your back? You didn't get out unscathed, either." The blond smirked, waiting as the pain started to fade, "Sorry I made the wrong move back there…I don't remember much but I'm guessing I should have aimed lower…"

"The demon was very fast," reminded William, "and we had little time to form a solid plan of attack. All things considered, you did well. Our mission plan is to gather as many records as possible and to survive. I believe we could have done worse."

He pulled the sheets up further over Ronald's prone form in another uncommonly solicitous gesture. "Just rest and recuperate, Mr. Knox. I will be fine until you have recovered enough to rejoin me in the field."

"What are you doing here so late? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Ron asked, shifting his position slightly against the pillow. "Or do none of the medical staff speak English or Italian and you had to be here to tell me things when I woke up?"

It was on the tip of William's tongue to make the convenient excuse that Ronald had just unwittingly provided and lie to him. Instead, he smirked ruefully and looked away. "You are my underling and my partner in this endeavor," he said coolly. "As such, I have a responsibility to you. I chose to return and check in on you, before retiring for the evening. I've brought a clean uniform for you to change into when they release you…simply because you did not see fit to pack anything other than socks and underwear. I will return in the morning to check on your progress again."

He straightened his tie and adjusted his glasses. "Do try and get as much rest as you can, Ronald Knox."

"Not like I have needed anything else but socks and Boxers." Ron pointed out with a small shrug, "Are you going to be going back to the hotel, or are you going to play with my hair as I sleep again?" he smirked.

William was glad that he'd turned away at that moment, because he felt his cheeks grow warm. He was not the sort of man to blush. He paused on his way to the door and he schooled his voice into a neutral tone. "I was merely attempting to soothe your fretting before you upset your injury," he excused. "I was not 'playing with your hair'. Goodnight, Mr. Knox. I shall see you in the morning."

Ronald smiled and gave a small chuckle, "Good night. Don't miss me too much." He sighed as the door closed. _'I think he likes me.'_ he thought to himself as he closed his eyes to let himself drift back off to sleep.

* * *

><p>While their companions were trying to recover from their ordeals in Poland, Eric and Alan were trying to run the office in their absence. It was driving the Scotsman crazy, and he had to wonder if Spears was completely off his nut to come in and do this every day. Everyone had questions for him or Alan. Nothing seemed to go smoothly. If it wasn't an error in death reports, it was an error with the filing…or with the death lists themselves. It appeared someone in Personnel was slacking off and sending out death lists with names on them that had already been collected.<p>

"Och, fer tha love o'…Alan, do ya have officer Randall's folder o'er there? I told tha man tae put it on _my_ desk. Told 'im twenty times by now tha' death reports are fer mah desk an' department reports are fer yers!"

"Hold on, let me check." Alan said shifting through the piles of folders on his own desk, "Nope, it isn't here. Sorry. But I think these belong in your pile." He handed over a stack of folders as he let out a little yawn into his free hand—which happened to be holding a pen which drew a line of black ink onto his cheek without his knowing, "And I think I need a quick pick-me-up…"

Eric noticed the mark his partner had inadvertently put on his face and his temper rapidly cooled, to be replaced by amusement. He snorted and he stood up. "I'll say ye do. Ya jus' drew on yer face, kid." Grinning, he took Alan's pen from him and he reached for a tissue from his desktop. He licked it and he began to wipe the smaller reaper's cheek off with it.

"Uhg, Eric! I could have just got it in the bathroom with soap and water!" Alan protested the spit-cleaning treatment. He looked up at Eric with his big, innocent eyes. "I thought only mothers did that!"

Still grinning, the Scotsman shrugged. He balled up the paper towel and tossed it into the trash. "Jus' takin' care of mah partner, is all." Unable to resist the cute expression on his face, he cupped Alan's chin and lowered his mouth to his for a little kiss. "Yer tha only thing keeping me sane righ' now. I've go' a new appreciation for wha' Spears does every day."

"Ah…" Alan's eyes were wider, staring up at Eric unblinkingly as his fingers moved up to touch his own shocked lips. A complete lack of words coming to them.

Eric had…kissed him? Eric Slingby—his partner—the office 'stud'—had _kissed_ him.

He didn't even want to think about how red his cheeks had gotten.

Realizing what he'd just done, Eric's usually lazy gaze widened as well behind the blue-tinted lenses of his glasses. What was _that_? He'd thought about doing it before, sure, but _now_ of all times? He blamed it on fatigue…and of course, Alan's cuteness.

"Uh, heh…" The Scotsman scratched his head self-consciously, trying to come up with some excuse. "Tha' was…spur o' tha moment. Sorry. Ya jus' looked sae cute an' I wasnae thinking straight."

He almost snorted at his inadvertent pun, and he wondered if Alan could even understand him, his accent was so thick right now. He cleared his throat and sucked his teeth in thought. "Why do ya have tae be s' damned sweet, anyway? Ah, its no' yer fault…it's mine." He made himself look into those round eyes and he smirked. "Gonna report me fer sexual harassment, Alan?"

But Alan's face only grew redder as Eric spoke, making excuses.

It wasn't that he didn't want it. After all, he couldn't say how many times he'd awoken with a hard-on due to what he'd see in his dreams. The things he'd fantasized about doing with Eric…the cold showers he'd have to endure when he got home from work after Eric had said or done something on the ride home since they normally carpooled. But he never once thought anything would _actually_ happen! And just now Eric had…

"You…kissed me?" he whispered.

Eric nodded, bracing himself for a slap or a pinch or a lecture. "Mm-hmm. I did."

He almost started babbling more excuses, but the more he looked at his partner, the more he began to suspect the kiss wasn't entirely unwelcome…and the more he wanted to do it again. That was just a peck, really…nothing compared to the sort of kisses he usually delivered to interested parties. Alan's lips had been soft and yielding against his during that brief contact, and some devil took hold of him to see if he could push it a little further, rather than try to blow it off as a fluke.

Eric leaned in closer and he smiled lazily at the smaller man. "Want ano'er one?"

"Only…if you mean it…" Alan tried to whisper but his voice cracked from nerves.

Pleasantly surprised by the answer, Eric didn't hesitate. He cupped the back of Alan's head, dropped the pen to the floor and put his other arm around him to pull his body flush against his own. His mood went from teasing to serious as he stared into Alan's eyes for a moment, before lowering his mouth to his for another kiss…and this one was no mere peck on the lips. He hadn't fully appreciated how much he'd really been wanting this until he did it, and he felt a thrill go through him as he slipped his tongue past Alan's lips and into his mouth, kissing him with demanding passion that surprised even himself.

Alan gave a muffled gasp of surprise. He hadn't expected another kiss under the requirement of 'meaning it'. Eric was such a flirt, after all. With both men and women around the dispatch building and the occasional human while out on assignment.

But those lips were all too real. The strong lips massaging against his soft ones, the hair on his chin tickling against his hairless one, arms around his body holding him close—and the tongue…

Alan practically jumped as he began to kiss back, his arms sliding around behind the Scotsman's neck as his eyes closed. It wasn't his first kiss, but it felt like it was.

Eric ravished his mouth for several minutes, doing things with his tongue and lips that could easily make a reserved man like Alan feel violated—but Eric couldn't bring himself to stop. He hadn't expected it to have quite this effect on him, and he wondered if it was due in part to him always considering his partner off-limits. Maybe it was the thrill of kissing someone he probably shouldn't be kissing. Whatever it was, he felt like he could spend the rest of the afternoon just tasting and exploring Alan's mouth.

He made himself stop and withdraw when he caught himself trying to grind against the smaller reaper. Breathing heavily, he pulled back and he dragged his lust back into its box to seal it up tight—or at least moderately enough so as not to control him.

"Guess I meant it," he breathed, staring at that charmingly flushed, upturned face.

The brunet was left panting as if they had made mad-passionate love right there in the space between their desks. And truly, he felt as if they had in a way, with how Eric had lay claim to every inch of his mouth. And he wish it hadn't ended.

"…Eric…I…" he swallowed, trying to find his voice again.

The blond traced Alan's parted, kiss swollen lips with his thumb. He smiled crookedly at him, pleased with his stunned reaction. He was feeling a bit dizzy himself. He badly wanted to do it again, but he didn't plan any of this and he owed it to his partner to at least give him a moment to think about how he felt about it.

"So who's mah competition?" he murmured, reluctantly admitting to himself that it was entirely possible his partner already had another love interest. They generally didn't discuss such things because he got the feeling it always annoyed Alan to hear about it. Now he wondered if that was jealousy…and he realized he hated the thought of someone else kissing Alan the way he just did.

"I think…the better question is who's mine," Alan admitted after another moment of trying to find his voice. "You flirt with everyone—who are the serious ones?" He asked it, but feared the answer. Feared Eric had more he kissed with meaning.

Alan's one and only kiss had been from a drunken Ronald when he'd gone to get the party boy from the pub late one night after the bartender called around looking for someone who knew the blond who could go take him home. Ronald hadn't even remembered it. Hardly 'competition'.

Eric huffed a little and smirked wryly. "I havenae had a 'serious one' since I graduated th' academy. I go on dates a lo', sure, but there's nobody special."

"Then…can I be your next 'serious' one?" Alan asked, hopeful. "Can I become 'special?"

Eric's affection for this reaper swelled even further in response to that sweet, endearing request. He gave him a squeeze and he smiled down at him. "Pretty sure ye already are 'special' tae me, Alan…an' I think if there's anyone I'd want tae be exclusive wi', it'd be you. I jus' ne'er thought ye'd go fer me, seeing as yer so quiet natured an' responsible, an' I'm so loud an' flirty."

He combed his fingers through the smaller reaper's soft brown hair. "Think ya could handle being wi' a rogue like me? I'd like tae try, anyhow."

"Do you think I'd date myself?" Alan countered, "That would get pretty boring to be with someone too much like myself. Besides… I… have liked you for a long time, and if I can handle you as my mentor and then as my partner, then how much worse can it be as my boyfriend?" As he spoke the red in his cheeks spread to his ears.

Eric chuckled and he tweaked one of Alan's ears, stroking his thumb over the sensitive lobe. "I love tha way ya blush, Al. Makes me want tae kiss ye again. Oh, I've go' conditions, by tha way. Ye've gotta let me kiss ya like tha' at least twice a day, an' we go out on dates when we've go' tha time tae spare fer it…even if it's jus' a nice dinner now an' then…or a movie night at my place or yers."

Alan's heart skipped a beat, "I may be new to dating…but isn't going on dates a big part of it?" He asked, "But please, keep the big kisses to more…private locations. We need to maintain a professional attitude in the work place." He bit his lip and let his eyes drift down to Eric's lips that had been covering his moments before.

"I'll at least lock tha door tae th' office, next time," promised Eric with a wink, "but we've been practically living in tha office since Spears an' tha others went off tae help wi' tha war casualties. Gotta get mah kisses in somehow, sweetheart."

"There is also before and after work." Alan pointed out, though he found himself pulling himself up to steal another kiss himself, his lips pressing against Eric's.

The taller reaper put his arms around him and deepened the kiss, unable to help himself. He lifted Alan in his arms, his tongue again pushing into his mouth to make love to his. He didn't mean to let it go that far again, but gods help him, the taste and feel of his partner was everything and more he'd ever imagined it would be. After ravishing his mouth anew for a few moments, he set him back down and reluctantly broke the kiss.

"Fer someone tha' wants tae save tha kissing fer off-work hours," he teased breathlessly, "yer kinda smoochy."

"Give me a break! I'm new to this. And you are a whole lot better at it than an overly drunk Ronald that I am trying to get to go home before he'll further regret partying so much." Alan rested his head against Eric's shoulder and slowly inhaled his manly scent. "…And I've dreamed of this…"

Eric chuckled. "If I'd known tha', I woulda kissed ye a lot sooner."

Someone knocked on their office door and Eric hastily stepped away from his companion, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with someone seeing them in such an intimate position. "Come in," he said, and a young Dispatch recruit entered with a handful of documents.

"Sirs, I have the latest reports from Director Spears and Officer Sutcliff!"

Eric nodded and crossed the room to take them. "Thanks. Yer dismissed."

He made sure to lock the door behind the recruit and he started reading the documents as his partner came up behind him. "Hmm, Knox go' hurt by a demon," he muttered. "Guess the streets in Warsaw were rife wi' 'em once shit hit tha fan an' he took a hit bringin' it down. It says he's recovering fine but he'll be out of commission fer a couple of days…oh shite…boss is crazy! He's planning tae go out reaping alone in that mess while Ronnie's recovering!"

"The man's gone mad!" Alan gasped, looking around Eric's shoulder at the report. "Solo missions are highly discouraged during war times in the mortal realm. So many things can go wrong. I would have thought Mister Spears would be one of the first to realize that and follow the encouraged protocol."

Eric nodded in full agreement. "Somethin' must have go' into him. Remember how he defended Germans when we were discussing tha mission before they left? Makes me wonder if this is all starting tae get tae him more than he's lettin' on."

"It's possible.," agreed Alan. "As much as he comes off as the strong, perfect reaper figure here in London Dispatch, he's still just a reaper like all of us…and war…can break people. That's what happened to the Undertaker, after all, and he was a legend. War gets to the best of us if we aren't careful." Alan sighed and dropped off his tiptoes, troubled.

Undertaker's retirement had been their story of caution back in his days as a student. After learning of all the great things the man had done, his story ended during a war. What he had seen and lived through back then had proven to be too much and mentally damaged him. Retirement had been encouraged after that for his own good. There was more to the story, Alan was sure, but the basics of it was all that was ever shared with the public.

"Och, I hope tha boss doesnae follow tha' path," muttered Eric. "Then we'll be stuck in this job fer gods know how long…" He saw the look Alan gave him and he revised his words a bit. "…or somethin' less selfish. Think we ought tae try an' reach Grell an' Ronnie? See if they can keep a closer eye on him?"

"It's all we can do, really. We're stuck here while Mister Spears is off helping the German reapers." Alan nodded. "Hopefully Ronald won't be out of commission long and Spears doesn't get into trouble working alone during that time."

"Aye," sighed Eric. He rubbed his partner's shoulder and he leaned in for a quick kiss on the cheek. "Want tae handle tha phone calls while I finish up this paperwork? Yer better at talking sense intae people an' working out solutions tae delicate matters than meself."

"I'm better at most in-office things than you." Alan pointed out, flushing. "Uhm," he shifted and fiddled with his fingers, "But tonight after work…maybe…we could go out together?" he bit his lip and glanced up at the handsome Scotsman.

Eric had to resist the strong and sudden urge to hug the endearing brunet tightly. He grinned and winked at him. "Try tae stop me, partner. We can go wherever ya like."

Alan smiled wider, "I look forward to it." He popped up on his toes to plant a kiss on Eric's cheek before he spun around and settled back at his desk, shifting a few files around to locate a pen.

Eric stared at his partner for a moment, before shaking himself out of his happy daydreams and getting back to work. He never would have thought he'd end this day with a date he'd been fantasizing about for months. He'd have to make it bloody good and prove to Alan that he could be both devoted and romantic.

~Dun' screw it up, Slingby. Ye've been eyeballing him fer a while now an' ye cannae afford tae ruin this chance.~

He smirked at his own thoughts. Seduction usually came so easily and naturally to him, but this time he honestly cared about the target of his affections, and he wasn't just trying to get down his pants. Ronald would probably have a field day if he found out how smitten he really was.

* * *

><p>"Oh come on!" Ronald groaned in frustration, "I feel fine! I won't pop a stitch if I get up and stretch my legs! Styx, doesn't <em>anyone<em> here speak English? _Che ne dici di italiano? Qualcuno di voi sa che? Io non ho intenzione di morire se mi alzo in piedi per pochi secondi!" _Finding his attempts to be useless, Ron flopped back and tried to smother himself with a pillow. "German hospitals are even worse than normal ones!" he complained to himself. He hated being stuck in bed all day and the nurses refused to let him get up to stretch his legs.

William arrived a few minutes later, and he brought in Ronald's phone with him. "They were holding it at the nurse station," he informed the blond. He arched a brow. "Is there a particular reason you've got the pillow covering your face, Mister Knox?"

He offered the device to him. "Check your messages. One is from myself, as I was unaware they'd taken your phone away. I've no idea who the others are from."

"I'm trying to leave this bed-stuck life." Ron groaned, pushing the pillow up and taking the phone, "They won't even let me stretch my legs and don't speak English or Italian. I'm going crazy in here. Please tell me you have come to save me from the hospital!"

William refrained from smirking. "That would depend on their prognosis of your recovery, Knox. If they say you need another day of observation, then that's exactly what we are going to do."

His phone began to ring and he frowned, reaching into his pocket for it. "William T. Spears."

It was Grell. The supervisor sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Heavens…I've already told you that Knox is on the mend, Sutcliff. How many times must you pester me about it?"

"Ronnie-darling isn't the only person in your duo that I care about, Will!" Grell's voice pouted on the other end, "I'm calling about you, hottie."

William's brows hedged slightly. "I beg your pardon? I was relatively unscathed in the fight. There is no reason to be concerned about me."

"And so I thought—but then I heard you acted like an idiot rookie by going out alone on the field!"

The raven-haired agent blinked. "How in Hades…I haven't…" He sighed. Slingby…or Humphries. He had informed them that he intended to try and complete a few reaps with a local agent or failing that, alone. He had yet to do so, but he thought he'd made it clear that these were targets of the lowest possible personal risk to himself. "I know what I am doing, Grell Sutcliff. I haven't the time to explain my actions to you."

"You out-rank me only in position." Grell hummed, "I can still kick your sexy arse if you don't start using that over sized brain of yours! Wait until Ronnie can go back out."

"Honestly," sighed William. "These collections must be seen to. Now if you don't mind, I have plans to make. Mind your own assignments, Sutcliff. Good day."

He hung up the phone and replaced it in his pocket, only to find Ronald glaring sternly at him from the bed. The blond's phone was in one hand and his arms were crossed over his chest. He must have gotten a text concerning William's plans from one of those meddlers, too.

"What is that look for, Knox?"

"I'm your partner." Ron said, "At least right now for this whole war thing. I know I got hurt and all but don't you trust me?"

William faltered for a moment, and he impulsively straightened his glasses and looked away. "It isn't about trust. It's about getting the work done."

~All of those people. We are trained to distance ourselves from the moment we join the academy, reminded each day not to falter. Not to identify too strongly with our reaping targets. Even senior officers still get cautioned on such matters. I have never allowed emotion to cloud my judgment or interfere with a job.~

He then noticed that his hand was trembling as he dropped it from his glasses. He blinked at it, perplexed. Why was he trembling? He had seen plenty of gruesome, violent deaths. He had witnessed maiming, disease, animal attacks and all manner of foul play. The only time any mark had ever affected him strongly was his first one, back when he and Grell were still green. After that close call, he'd never allowed it to get to him again.

Or so he believed.

"That's utter demon shit!" Ron snapped, ignoring the nurse who was trying to get him to lay back down against his pillows, "It's not about production levels, it's about safety for both your physical and mental well being! I would have _died_ out there if it weren't for you—and you could very well suffer the same or worse without me! We work in pairs for a reason and you should know that, _supervisor_ Spears!"

William clenched his jaw, feeling an unreasonable flash of anger. The boy was right, of course. He shouldn't even be considering this after all of the lecturing he'd done concerning working in pairs, practicing caution and not taking un-necessary risks. What was wrong with him? He felt restless…an odd sense of desperation to get the job finished because…

_~…because I don't want to do this any longer. I want it over with, and we haven't even been on this mission for a week, yet. I want to finish our task and put it behind us.~_

William sighed, and he asked the nurse in German to leave them in privacy. She complied and left the room, and William waked over to the window and looked out through the blinds. "Very well. I shall refrain from acting until you are ready to join me on the field again, Ronald Knox."

His voice and stance seemed too stiff, even for him. He was beginning to feel brittle. He needed to calm himself and regain the stoicism he usually employed.

"There isn't a set number, you know." Ron offered, sitting up and dangling his legs over the edge of the bed so he could stretch them out a little now that the nurse was gone, "Going out today and collecting a thousand souls won't make the war end any sooner. And souls will be lost to demons. It's unavoidable. All we can do is collect as best we can, as safely as we can until the war is over and we can go back home to London."

Another sigh broke past William's lips, and he smirked ruefully. It seemed Ronald was more the "senpai" here than he was. He turned from the window to look at him, his neon eyes sweeping over the younger reaper. For all his carefree, party-boy antics, Ronald Knox was turning out to be the ideal partner in this endeavor. That surprised him a bit, but it proved his suspicions that the boy was more versatile than most gave him credit for.

"To be honest with you, Mr. Knox, I wasn't entirely certain why I insisted on you as a partner, when this all began. I looked over my options carefully and you simply seemed like the most logical choice, if I were to leave senior officers behind to monitor Dispatch."

He walked over to Ronald, gazing down at him with studious eyes. "But now I believe a part of me saw something that did no consciously register, at the time. Your adaptability."

Feeling he'd already said too much and that he was in danger of saying even more, William left it at that. He gave a small polite nod. "My apologies for straying from the goal of this mission. I shall inform the hospital that unless you have immediate need for further medical attention, they are to release you to my care. We will return to our accommodations so that you may recover in more comfort and privacy, and we shall return to our duties as soon as your strength returns in full."

He turned and walked out then, faintly embarrassed for having let himself go. There was still a feeling of anxiety, frustration and urgency permeating him, but he had not earned his reputation by breaking under pressure.

"Yes…_anything_ to get out of this hospital!" Ron grinned, choosing not to press the more serious matter too much. Praise from William Spears was a rare treat to anyone who worked under him. He wasn't about to ruin that by pressing the man further.

* * *

><p>A little under an hour later, William arranged for a cab to take them from the hospital to the bed and breakfast they'd been assigned to in the area. After getting Ronald settled in, he ordered room service, reported in to headquarters and last but not least, informed Grell that Ronald was out of the hospital and would be out on the field with him again in a couple of days. He didn't allow the phone conversation to drag on, still too rattled to handle Grell's endless inquiries. He and Ronald ate dinner together when it arrived at their room and he was mildly, silently amused at the boy's frustration when they could only find television channels in Polish and German.<p>

"Oh honestly, Knox," he admonished, "Didn't you bring any books with you? Puzzles? Games?"

Ronald raised an eyebrow at William, "You really think I'm the kind of guy who wants to sit around reading a book or popping tiny cardboard shapes together to make a picture? What, do you also think I spend my Friday nights playing BINGO?"

William shrugged. "I honestly have no idea what sort of person you are yet, Ronald. I can, however, offer translation if you are so desperate for television entertainment."

He lay down beside the blond against his better judgment, and he clicked the television remote to the local news. His sock-clad feet sat next to Ronald's, and he suffered the deplorable urge to nudge the younger reaper's feet playfully.

_~My gods, Knox…the things you provoke in me.~_

"The news? Really? That's what you want to watch? More of what we have been out there experiencing on collections?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow, "Can't we find something more up-lifting to watch?" he asked, reaching over across William to make a grab for the remote.

The brunet shrugged. "Suit yourself. I honestly have no idea what sort of entertainment programs we can expect to find."

"Anything not depressing and war-related, hopefully." Ron muttered as he flipped through the channels, "How about this?" he asked, stopping on a channel showing the German film _The Blue Angel_, "Looks like a movie. Could be good."

William fluffed his pillow and adjusted his glasses, preparing to translate for him. The movie opened with a scene in a college preparatory high school, and the professor by the name of Immanuel Rath had just caught some of his students passing around a photo of the headliner for the local Cabaret, "The Blue Angel".

"He's admonishing them for being perverts," explained William as the irate professor punished the students.

Deciding to try and catch his students visiting the forbidden club, the professor went there himself in the next scene. There was no need to translate the infatuation he expressed with the character Lola-Lola, whom his students had been passing around photos of. William continued to translate for Ronald as the movie progressed, and it was with some dismay that he realized the film had romantic overtones. He shifted uncomfortably. He disliked dramatic films due to the emotions expressed in them, and he disliked romance even more.

Ronald chuckled as he watched the movie and listened to William translating what was being said. It was no secret by the tone of the older reaper's voice that he was slightly uncomfortable with the subject matter of the movie in one way or another. But that was what made it fun. It was so easy to imagine William as being the character Rath in the movie, and Ronald began to wonder what it'd be like to watch William fall in love. As far as he knew, William had never had a real lover, never dated anyone… The closest he had was putting up with the way Grell constantly hung off him.

And there was a few rumors that William did have the occasional one-night-stand, but Ron really didn't know how much truth there was behind that one. They had been around since before he'd joined dispatch, after all. In reality, he hoped that it was true that William did get some once in a while. There was nothing wrong with casual sex, after all. He'd had it a few times himself—usually while drunk, though. And usually it ended up being awkward the next hungover morning. Especially the few times he'd awoken with Eric sharing the bed. Eric was his best friend, yes, but the man really wasn't his type—no matter how good he was in the sack. Plus Eric had a thing for Alan, though he tried to hide it.

"Hey…senpai," Ron tore his gaze away from the black and white screen to look at William. It probably wasn't a smart idea to ask him about it, but he was curious.

"Yes?" William kept his eyes on the television, trying to avoid staring at Ronald. He was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate with the attractive young blond sitting so close to him on the bed.

"Ever get laid?" He asked bluntly.

William was suddenly glad he hadn't reached for his beverage, because he probably would have choked on it had he been drinking. "I…beg your pardon?" He stared at the boy, thinking he must have misheard him. This was Ronald Knox though—infamous party-boy and flirt. Such a question from him honestly shouldn't be so surprising.

Ron gave a little shrug, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'm just curious if the rumors are true or not."

"What rumors?" Demanded William uncomfortably. People were spreading rumors about his sex life? Oh, but of _course_ they would. He was the supervisor, after all. Office gossip would naturally include speculation on who the boss was sleeping with. He was suddenly curious to hear exactly what people had been saying about him…a thing he would have considered too far beneath him to concern himself with.

"Nothing too bad." Ronald reassured him, "They say that while you never date, you do have the occasional one-night-stand with random people that have no connection with London Dispatch." he shifted and readjusted the pillows behind his back, "Normally it only comes up when some newbie comments on how you need to get laid after you lecture them about some stupid mistake on paperwork."

William flushed a bit and looked away. He owed no explanation to the blond, and yet he offered one anyway, against his better judgment. "I have indulged on occasion, if you must know. I haven't the time for a relationship, but I do have the same needs as any other reaper. I have…connections that I can rely on for that, when the mood strikes me."

The last time had been nearly a year ago, and he was beginning to feel said needs more potently, the more time he spent with Knox. One could hardly blame him for that, he reasoned. Ronald was high on the scales of attractiveness, and he had more people swooning over him than William cared to count. Between him and Slingby, it was a wonder anyone at the office got anything done at all.

"What of you?" he asked cautiously, looking at the younger reaper sidelong. "How many of _your_ exploits are truth and how many are exaggeration?"

Ronald let out an amused chuckle and reclined back against the pillows again, "Most are exaggeration, believe it or not. I take a lot of people out on dates, yeah, but not many end up in bed. I take girls out more than guys, but I prefer men to share a bed with. I found a lot of people have started to brag about lies after I take them out. I don't mind it so I don't say anything, but last time I got any was a night of too much drinking with Eric four months ago."

"You and Slingby?" William raised a brow in surprise. That must have been an…interesting encounter, considering both their reputations as amazing lovers. He wondered if they'd woken the whole block, and his imagination caught fire. Again uncomfortable, he returned his attention to the television again—though he'd completely lost interest in the film.

"The two of you don't seem to suffer any awkward feelings about that," he observed.

"It was awkward the first time it happened," Ron shrugged, "But he's my best friend and we're both single so we just figured we could be friends with drunken benefits if we don't try to talk about what happened after we wake up naked in the same bed. Once one of us gets a serious relationship, though, it'd be over. No more drunken sex."

"That would be…prudent," agreed William. With a little shock, he identified the ugly feeling twisting inside of him as jealousy. He was jealous of Eric Slingby for his friendship with Ronald, and for the benefits he evidently enjoyed at times. He tried to stop visualizing the two of them together that way, gasping, sweating and writhing on the bed. He couldn't imagine Slingby bottoming, so his mind automatically painted a picture of Ronald doing it. Visualizing him riding the Scotsman was disturbingly easy as well, and he imagined Eric's hand curling around Ronald's arousal, stroking it slowly as the panting, moaning blond gyrated on top of him…

_~Oh, honestly! Stop such thoughts at once!~_

His imagination would not comply though, and he soon replaced Eric with himself in the fantasy. What would Ronald's face look like when he came? Was he a loud lover? Did he like it hard? Rough, perhaps?

William realized he was staring at him, trying to imagine a flush of passion on those cheeks. He had a pleasing body, from what he'd seen…lithe and toned in all the right places. What would it be like to run his hands over the tight muscles of his abdomen, or prop his legs on his shoulders and pound him until he screamed his name?

"Do you prefer taking or receiving?"

His eyes widened briefly as the question left his mouth, and he couldn't believe he'd blurted it out loud.

Ronald froze, his eyes nearly bulging and his jaw dropping as the unexpected question registered in his mind. His boss—Cold and professional William T. Spears—had just asked him if he liked to be more submissive or dominate in bed? He had to mentally slap himself to avoid staring at him too long like a brainless idiot. Shaking his head, he pulled his legs up to his chest and he tried to repress the light hue of pink upon his cheeks as he looked William straight in the eye.

"I prefer to bottom out. One of the reasons I like men in bed rather than women. Romantically I like both, but sexually I like the feel of a dick doing it's thing inside me." he gave a little shrug, "I know it surprises a lot of people, but I also like the feel of being dominated. Being a little bit helpless and feel a loss of control over the situation—but only when it's consensual."

_~Heavens, I just _had_ to ask, didn't I?~_

William couldn't tear his eyes off of him, and he imagined binding Ronald's wrists behind his back, bending him over his desk and giving him the experience of his dick "doing its thing inside him". It just so happened that true to his nature, William T. Spears enjoyed being in control in his sexual encounters, preferring to dominate his partners. It was just too bloody perfect, and he wondered if Ronald had somehow read his mind and deliberately said that just to tempt him.

"You enjoy being held down?" murmured William, "Restrained and at the mercy of your lover?"

Why couldn't he stop? His near breakdown from earlier seemed to have jarred something loose…broken down his inhibitions. He never discussed such personal matters with anyone, save his partners when he arranged an encounter. He could hardly believe he was speaking so freely about it, but it _did_ provide the benefit of taking his mind off the horrors of this war.

"Well, yeah." Ron smirked, "It adds a bit of a thrill to the encounter. Not that I've had actual lovers. They have all been one time things other than Eric. Had Grell-senpai once, too. Regretted that one, though. He bites…hard. Had the marks for months, and he kept calling me 'William' which, you know, was way creepy. If I were you, I'd not give in unless you like biting." Ron shuddered. "He's a bloody shark in bed. I needed more booze afterwards, there."

William was again surprised. Just how many of their coworkers had Ronald slept with? He wasn't overly thrilled to hear that Grell was calling _his_ name during it, either. "There is utterly no chance of me giving in to Sutcliff's advances," he informed firmly, compressing his lips, "and the only biting I enjoy is light nips. I would neither bottom for him nor top."

He shuddered as well at the thought—not because he found Grell repulsive to look at, but he could not abide his behavior in any capacity. His thoughts went to the cuffs they carried as part of their issued equipment and he entertained the notion of using them on Ronald. He shook his head and rubbed his temples, wondering why he could not seem to shake these vivid little fantasies. William had never considered himself particularly imaginative, outside the bedroom. He was not a daydreamer and he generally never found himself distracted by lustful thoughts.

Why then could he not bottle them safely up and stop thinking of having his way with the blond?

"I feel a headache coming on," he confessed, annoyed with himself.

"Sorry—but you did ask." Ron shrugged and stretched his legs out in front of him and arching his back with a satisfied groan. Once he relaxed again, he glanced over at William, smirking as he caught sight of how the man was looking at him. Eyes trailing over his body.

"Well damn." he chuckled, "I know I'm sexy but—don't tell me you want a bite of the Knoxwurst, too." he teased.

William averted his gaze, somewhat mortified that his eyes had given something away. His pants were starting to feel tight as well and he covertly pulled the covers up to hide the tent that was starting to form. He nearly said he wasn't interested in Sutcliff's leftovers, but there was no need to be any more crass than he'd already been…and not even learning that Grell had gotten there first was enough to deter the attraction he felt for Ronald. He didn't intend to pursue the blond, but some part of him wasn't willing to outright say so.

"I'm merely trying to understand what would possess you to sleep with your mentor," he excused—which was true enough. Slingby was one thing, but _Grell_? He'd been under the impression that the redhead thought of Knox like a little brother, and he never would have imagined Sutcliff as Ronald's type.

"It wasn't planned at all." Ronald shrugged, "It just…happened. Remember when you sent us out on that collection of the ship that was supposed to sink? We were stuck in the same tiny little cabin, and it was freaking cold. So we decided to share a bunk that first night when she wasn't going to sink. It was warmer that way and…I don't know, next thing I knew he was naked and yanking my shirt open and it just sorta…happened. I did make sure he knew it was nothing serious on my end, though. I won't lead people on like that."

The blond trailed off, a strangely saddened look crossing his youthful features. "The guy who took my virginity did that to me, after all…I had really liked him and I was just a toy for the evening. Told myself I wouldn't sleep with someone who had feelings for me I don't return—or with someone I have feelings for myself. It fucking hurts to be used, ya know…"

William looked at him again, blinking slowly. Surprisingly, he could relate to some of those sentiments, even though he'd never experienced the pain of being used, himself. "Feelings can muddle things, I agree. I find it much more convenient to have an arrangement in which both parties are aware nothing will ever come of it, beyond mutual sexual release."

He did sometimes wonder what it was like to feel that sort of affection for another person, though. He saw couples exchange loving looks or touches, and at times he felt like he was missing out on something by keeping himself aloof and distanced from his partners. Then he saw the ruin of a bad breakup and he decided it was much better not to bother with love.

~And that is why I need to refrain from doing anything inappropriate with Knox. This struggle we're in has made me look at him differently.~

He could even dare say he'd grown fond of the boy, and that was a dangerous thing to combine with sexual attraction. William T. Spears lived his life by a code of logic, common sense and efficiency. Emotional attachment was not a thing he was prepared to deal with.

Ronald rolled off the side of the bed and onto his feet, walking over to the tray that still had food sitting on it from when they had ordered room service. He grabbed a wedge of a cut sandwich and took a bite of it, more for something to do than out of hunger. They were starting to get personal—at least, emotionally personal in their topic. To him, talk of casual sex was one thing, but they were getting deeper than that.

He had teasingly offered sex to William in a way, but he knew that had the man for whatever reason started to take him up on the offer, he would have backed out.

William Spears wasn't the kind of man Ronald normally fell for. His type was normally a little more like Eric in some ways. Warm, caring, muscular… And William was so cold and displayed limited emotions. And yet, despite that, Ronald did have some feelings for the man. Feelings he hid away knowing they would never be returned. And if he were to hop into bed with the man, he feared he wouldn't be able to stop those emotions from coming out—and he'd only get himself hurt.

"There's one more sandwich, want it?" he asked, changing the subject.

William shook his head. "Thank you, no. I'm not particularly hungry."

_~For food.~_

He sighed, once more annoyed with himself for allowing sexual fantasies of Knox permeate his thoughts—even encouraging them. What a foolish thing to do. The movie was ending, and his libido was beginning to settle again. Still, his gaze kept straying to the younger reaper as Ronald finished off the leftover food. He watched the way his throat worked as he swallowed, and he imagined kissing the Adam's Apple and nibbling the spot below his jaw.

Yes, Ronald Knox was far too attractive for his own good.

* * *

><p>-To be continued<p>


	4. Chapter 4

They rested up for a couple more days before returning to the mortal realm to resume their collections. William wasn't quite certain that Ronald was up for it yet, but the blond insisted that he could manage. Grell and Alexander were called away to Treblinka; one of the killing centers in Poland. That left only William and Ronald as representatives of the London branch in Warsaw Ghetto, and the body count kept rising.

_"January 20th, 1943,"_ wrote William into his report journal, _"On this day, my partner and I have thus far collected over twenty reaps in Warsaw alone. Other reapers from various branches are also in the area, but language barriers often prevent any meaningful communication between our units. Knox and I have moved further out from the center of the city, battling our way through lesser demons that have come to feast on souls like the carrion they are. We have ten more reaps to do in this area to fulfill our quota for the day."_

He stopped at the body of a young girl—one of the victims of this conflict. She bore a number tattoo on her arm and her head was shaved. He knelt down beside her, considering reaping her before any of the hellspawn in the area could get to her. Unfortunately, he and Ronald were not assigned to the Polish and Jewish casualties. They were meant to collect the reels of the fallen Germans.

He sensed his companion come up behind him and he twisted a bit, looking up at him as Ronald's shadow fell over him. "Have you seen any other agents in the immediate area?" he questioned, reluctant to simply leave her there undefended until her assigned reaper came for her.

Ronald shook his head, "Not really. There were two but they suddenly ran off after they spotted a reaper distress signal further out. I assume they responded to that and ran to help the team that sent it. I collected two more off our list." he continued, holding up a clipboard and making sure he'd marked down the correct information, "We have eight more."

William sighed and rubbed his forehead, removing his hat to comb his bangs back into place. "I see. Well, there's little to be done for it. We must move on, it seems."

He spared one last look at the pitiable body of the child and he began to lead the way to their next target. He found a lesser demon already crouched over it when they arrived to gather the soldier's records, and he quickly shot his scythe out to pin it against a building before it could finish its meal.

"I shall dispatch this one," said the supervisor, his jaw tight with anger. "Please gather whatever records the creature has not already consumed, Knox."

Ron nodded and ran forward, raising his scythe as Will's pushed the demon off the target. He then brought it down in the man's chest and released the records, collecting them as quickly as he could—safely. Luckily, they had arrived just in time and very little had been lost.

"Didn't loose much on this one!" he called back over his shoulder at William.

William snipped the demon's head off, spilling its records instantly. Were it a greater demon, the attack would have only temporarily stopped it at worse or banished it back to Hell at best. Being a weaker sub-species, however, the demon fell twitching, killed by the attack.

"Well done, Knox." William retracted his scythe and nudged his glasses up further on his nose. "Now we can—"

There was a sudden explosion from a block away, making the ground tremble. An orange glow lit up the sky and William frowned, peering in the direction of the disturbance. He took out the death list to check it and he sighed. He was about to say that they could collect the souls of the Nazi officers that had been executed by the resistance after they took over the ghetto, but it seemed the Nazi's had begun an attempt to take the area back. There were more explosions and screams, and people started coming out of hiding to flee as Nazi police and military forces started razing buildings.

The resistance was clearly fighting back, since William's list gained two more names on it. More Jews and Polacks were likely appearing on other death lists than Nazi soldiers, though. "It seems we have more work to do than previously scheduled," he observed, closing the book. "Come, we will continue as planned and return to collect the new targets afterwards. Older deaths take priority at this time."

"And not get blown up…I like the idea of not getting blown up!" Ronald hated when the explosions started happening. Bullet wounds took a day, maybe two to heal up. But damage from a bomb could take months. And he hated being stuck in the hospital. He wanted to avoid it at all costs, especially after he'd been sent there once by a demon.

"Indeed." William started off, sticking close to the walls of the buildings and making sure he was still actively cloaked from mortal view. Maintaining such a cloak required some concentration and expended energy, but it was necessary to move freely amongst them without getting actively caught up in their conflict. He dodged a panicked, wide-eyed resident and pulled Ronald aside so that he wouldn't bump into him either.

They were currently moving away from the struggle, so William presumed they would be relatively safe from gunfire and bombs until they had to back-track to gather the newest targets. "Here," he said, turning a corner. He stared up at the lifeless, hanging bodies of SS Soldiers and Jewish policemen alike. He hadn't quite expected to find that the rebels had executed their own, but he supposed they considered them traitors—no better than the Nazi's.

_~The depths that humans will sink to. So uncivilized. They are little better than demons.~_

Withdrawing a handkerchief to fit over his mouth and nose, William gestured at the scaffold. "I will begin on the left, if you will begin on the right," he suggested.

Ronald nodded and ducked across to the right side, twirling his scythe in his hand as he readied to reap the first target he came to. "Watch your step, it's a little slippery over here." He informed his partner as his foot slid slightly in a puddle of blood. Luckily, he didn't loose balance or fall and he was able to start collecting the records quickly.

Despite the handkerchief he wore to filter out the stench, William nearly gagged as he began harvesting his first mark. He waved a carrion bird away that had been pecking out the corpse's eyes and he feared for a moment he might retch. Faster…he had to work faster. The smell, the putrid flesh…and above all, the reason behind it were all making him nauseous and light-headed.

He allowed himself to get in too much of a hurry and one of the reels went out of control, wrapping around his forearm. William cursed and quickly corrected the situation, bringing it back under control and drawing it into his scythe. Not before Ronald noticed, though. He saw the worried look he got from his companion and he forced his expression into a blank, neutral mask. He was seething inside at his slip-up even as he moved on to the next target.

_~A good reaper must never allow the desire for haste to make him careless,~_ he reminded himself. _~They are only collections…pitiful shells of creatures beneath us. We are the mediators, not their judges.~_

It was so easy to tell himself that, though. It was much more difficult to continue believing it. William prided himself on being cold and unmoved by the plight of mortals, but the more time he spent here, the more difficult it was for him to maintain that sort of detachment.

Ronald was unable to shake the worry that hit him when he caught sight of his boss making such a rookie mistake as rushing and loosing control of the records. It was clear to him that William was embarrassed enough over it so he said nothing—but that didn't stop him from casting his gaze over periodically to check on William when he could afford to take his attention away from the records he was collecting himself.

Working his way over towards William, the smell became overbearing and he paused, pulling out a handkerchief and tying it around his mouth and nose so that he could have both hands free for the job at hand. It made him wonder how long these souls had been sitting there, and it was amazing that they hadn't been stolen away by a demon or escaped as ghosts.

William finished and he hopped down from the scaffold, a bit pale but otherwise calm. "Well then, that's finished," he said as he removed his handkerchief and put it back into his pocket. In hindsight, he supposed he could have simply stopped breathing until the task was complete. He made a mental note to keep that in mind for the future, and he felt another flash of annoyance with himself for not having thought of it.

He pulled out the death list and he retrieved the mapping device from his pocket. Glancing up at the smoke billowing skyward from are where the wall separated the ghetto from the rest of the city, he gave a curt nod. "And now the more difficult task begins. We shall have to pass through combat zones and destruction to reach the other targets, Knox. Are you ready?"

"Sorry…one thing." Unable to help himself, Ronald took William's hand and tugged his sleeve up to check his arm for marks. It had only looked like the records had only wrapped around him, but Ronald wanted to make sure they hadn't entered William. Seeing no marks, Ronald nodded and let William go without further word on the issue. "Okay, now I'm ready."

William very nearly asked what that was all about, but he already knew the answer. Adjusting his glasses in his customary, compulsory way, he nodded and started off. The chaos in the streets was disturbing to behold. The sour smell of mortal fear and desperation offended his nostrils. He stopped breathing, not wanting to smell it anymore. He ducked down an alleyway to avoid some of the combat in the streets as they neared their next targets. The SS troops and Nazi police were pushing back, trying to re-establish a foothold and hunt down all of the insurgents.

A man was shot down right before their eyes just as he and Ronald turned down the alley, and William grimaced as a glob of brain matter struck his cheek. He took a breath and he wiped it away hastily, leaving a smear of gray, pink and red in its wake. "H-honestly," he muttered—because it was the only thing he could think of to say. He swallowed when he saw bloody pieces of hair clinging to his glove from where he'd wiped off the mess, and he compressed his lips and quickened his pace.

"Senpai!" Ronald grabbed William's uniform jacket and yanked him out of the way as a shower of bullets flew by. "Get your head in gear! Pay attention! You keep making mistakes!"

He sighed after the scolding. "If you can't handle this right now we can go. We'll just take on the extra paperwork, okay? But you gotta tell me. I'm your partner."

"I'm fine," insisted William stiffly, determined to see this day's work finished. He hadn't risen to the top by slacking off on the job. He nodded toward another alley. "This way. I believe we can avoid the majority of this if we—"

And then the sound of fighting broke out in the alley. Of course, the rebels wouldn't be stupid enough to remain out in the open. Gunfire rattled and another explosion occurred…right down the alleyway that William had just been about to traverse.

"On second thought," muttered the raven-haired reaper. He looked upwards. Staying on the ground right now was probably not the best plan. "Perhaps we should take to the rooftops."

There were likely to be snipers there, but the majority of the violence was taking place on the ground. The one concern about hopping roofs in this situation was the lack of cover.

Ronald paused, studying William. "Are you sure?" He repeated. He didn't care which route they took. Both had risks, but he _did_ care if William was breaking down.

"If you have a better suggestion for a path to take, Mister Knox, do share." William retrieved his handkerchief and he wiped absently at the remaining mess on his face. "Either way, we have a task to complete. I'll not risk losing these last targets to demons or soul decay."

"I don't know this area just as well as you. I'll follow you whichever way you want to go—as long as you are up to this. No more silly mistakes, okay? That's my job."

William inwardly cursed again. So he hadn't imagined it; Ronald _had_ noticed his error. He needed to pull it together. It was his own idea to come here personally after all, and what sort of leader _was_ he if he couldn't even reap a target without making a mistake?

"It is indeed your job," answered William with a smirk. "I'll leave the carelessness to you from now on. Let's go."

"Good." Ronald nodded and turned. "Which way, boss? Over, or through?"

"We'll try over," decided William, "and should that prove to be more troublesome than traversing the ground, we can drop back to the streets. Just watch for gunfire and grenades. It seems the Nazi's have decided to try burning their opposition out."

"No need to remind me. I for one, have no desire to find myself back in that stinky old hospital." Ronald nodded, crouching down and springing up to get himself to the rooftop.

William followed, and together they began running and leaping over rooftops with tireless, inhuman dexterity. William pinpointed their next target down beneath them and to the left, and he dropped down quickly to begin the collection. He trusted Ronald to keep an eye out while he did his task—and he would do the same in turn for the next one. This way they would each have a slight breather between reaping and still maintain a good momentum. Human souls didn't easily let go, and it did expend energy to draw the records for collection.

The pair collected records, checking off the names on their lists one by one until they were down to their last soul. It was Ronald's turn and he quickly hopped down from the roof, taking aim and twirling his scythe in his fingers before bringing it down into the target's chest to release the records, while William kept watch up above for any threats.

The victim's soul opened up and his records burst forth as normal, and Ronald straitened up to begin collecting. He frowned.

Normally, a reaper started the collecting after releasing them by cutting them and drawing them into their scythes from the point of the cut. It took time even for those who could handle making multiple cuts, but it wasn't working for Ronald. He slashed his scythe through the released records, only to find that his scythe passed through them as if they were little more than smoke. Trying again, he found the same thing happened. Again and again he tried, until he was swinging his scythe back and forth like a child picking up a cricket bat for the first time.

Giving up on the fruitless attempt, Ronald looked closer at the records simply extending up towards the sky. Not fighting back, not being collected, simply swaying like dangling ribbons.

Closer inspection, however, showed that they were not normal.

Had a demon gotten there first, they would be gone, nothing to collect, nothing to show. Nothing would have happened when Ronald brought his scythe down. Had an Angel gotten there to purify the soul, they would show signs of being burnt, missing parts of the records, and glowing a pure white. An escaped soul would show signs of forced release, and Ronald had even seen modified souls once…ones that continued after the end. But these were…blank.

"Hey, Senpai! You…might want to come look at this!"

William dropped down and came to his side, and he frowned at the strange reels. "This is highly abnormal," he announced, stating the obvious. "This soul appears…empty. As if someone removed all of the life events from the records entirely. The only supernatural beings I can imagine with the power to do that would be Shinigami, but I've only known of a couple with the power to alter records extensively…and it was nothing like this."

"Undertaker and his 'Bizarre Dolls'?" Ronald nodded, "But those were still collectible. These…I can't. Look." he swung his scythe blade through the records with the same result as he had before. "It's like my scythe is broken, but I used it just ten minuets ago!"

William gave it a try with his own scythe, just to confirm it was a problem with the reels and not his partner's scythe. He met with the same results as Ronald and he compressed his lips, shaking his head. "There is nothing we can do with this, save report in about it. I would say that we could attempt to transport the body to the other side as evidence, but we haven't a clue what might happen if those records pass through a portal. They could become hostile and pose a danger. Best to leave it and report our findings."

Ronald nodded and stretched his back with a sigh, "So, we should head back, then? Submit our reports and collections before taking a nice relaxing rest?"

"Yes, I think that would be wise." William looked around as the sounds of fighting and explosives got closer. "Come. We should head to our exit portal immediately. I would rather avoid getting caught in the middle of more firefights."

He still had bits of that one poor bastard's skull and brain matter clinging to his uniform, and he wanted to get out of the outfit post-haste.

"I saw that there is a sauna in the hotel we are staying in. We could go in there to relax, work up a comfortable sweat." Ron suggested as they turned to find their way to their portal.

William very nearly reminded him that this was not a vacation, but the boy already knew that. It was typical of Knox to try and find relaxation and fun whenever possible, after all. Truthfully after the day they'd had, he wouldn't mind a bit of indulgence himself. But first he wanted a long, hot shower.

"I'm not entirely opposed to that idea," he admitted, "but first…a shower."

He couldn't avoid a grimace as he glanced down at the mess on his uniform. At least he'd gotten most of it off of his face. He pulled out the location device and activated it as they walked, studying the grid whilst keeping an eye out for danger. He very nearly tripped on a body and he hastily caught his balance, glancing down at it with annoyance.

"Our exit portal is just outside the city perimeter," he announced. "At least this course won't lead us back into the thick of the conflict."

"Good, the faster we get back to the safety of our own realm, the faster we can relax and forget this stupid war for a few hours."

They made it to the portal and went through together. William frowned and put a hand to his head, suffering a moment of dizziness from traversing the realms. That certainly wasn't normal. A symptom of his stress, perhaps. With a sigh, he nodded at his companion and started up the steps to the foreign library.

It took them only ten minutes to turn in their daily collections, however the paperwork took a little longer than normal between having to translate it into German and the extra report about the blank records, which they had to send up to the German board for review.

Finally they got back to their hotel and Ronald lead the way into the hotel room. "You shower first. You still have brains on you." he offered, stripping out of his uniform.

William grimaced down at himself, and he made a disgusted sound. "Thank you. I don't envy the cleaners; the job they face."

He went into the bathroom and immediately stripped out of the soiled clothes, before turning on the shower full blast. He took his time with it, scrubbing his body for much longer than necessary.

He could wash away the blood and dirt, but he could not wash away the experience.

While William washed up, Ronald called down for two extra towels for he and William to use in the sauna; he also ordered them some dinner while he was at it. He planned to eat his while William showered and that gave William something productive to do while Ronald washed off the grime of working a war setting covered him in.

Room service arrived quickly and Ronald thanked them and tipped the young German who brought up his order before setting down to eat as he waited for William to be ready to come out. He didn't blame Will for taking his time after what he'd gotten splattered with.

William felt like he could just stay in there, letting the water beat down on his shoulders and the back of his bowed head. Eyes tightly shut, he couldn't seem to banish the memory of the things he'd seen from his mind's eye.

He opened his eyes and stared down at his feet, watching the water swirl around and down the drain. This was not him. He hadn't suffered a vulnerable moment since the day he'd endured the humiliation of being rescued by Sutcliff.

Opening his eyes again, William compressed his lips and decided he was better than this. Besides, it would be rude of him to use up all the hot water. He turned the shower off and stepped out with a sigh, grabbing his towel to dry off.

After finishing that, he combed his damp hair and donned his bathrobe. He looked at his soiled uniform in distaste; loathe to touch it again after getting clean. It wouldn't do to leave it in there for Knox to have to look at it, though.

Sighing, William used his death scythe to pick it up, and he backed out of the bathroom with it clutched gingerly between the blades on the end. His expression resembled that of a man handling a putrid carcass.

"Wow, great timing. I just finished eating," Ron said, getting up. "I ordered dinner for us. You can eat it while I get cleaned up and then we can go relax without further delay." He spoke as cheerfully as he could, slipping passed William and into the steamy bathroom. "Oh, and I had them bring us up fresh towels to use in the sauna so that we don't have to use our bathing towels."

With that said, the blond shut the door and the sound of the water turning back on could be heard.

Silently grateful for Knox's thoughtfulness, William went to the little table to eat. He stared out the window as he dined, hardly tasting the food. He listened to the sound of running water in the bathroom and he hoped he'd left enough hot water for his companion. Thoughts of that led to other thoughts he ought not be entertaining…thoughts of Ronald's nude body, with water rivulets spilling over it…

William compressed his lips with annoyance and gave himself a mental nudge. _~Oh, honestly…can I not keep my thoughts more appropriate?~_

But at least imagining Ronald in the shower seemed to chase away the lingering mental images of the things he'd witnessed thus far in this war. He had to say, it was a far more pleasant picture to keep in his head.

Ronald showered quickly, simply washing off the dirt and grime as relaxing would come shortly. It took him only seven minuets to finish and get out. He toweled himself off and stretched, cracking his back. He then got himself ready for the sauna, wrapping his new towel around his waist and putting the hotel bath robe on over it for modesty on his way down to the sauna.

"Okay, if you are finished eating and have gotten into your towel and robe, we can head on down." Ron said, slipping out of the steamy bathroom and moving to find a cleaner pair of his shoes.

William glanced down at his half-finished meal, not particularly hungry enough to finish it. "This will do." He got up to retrieve the fresh towel, and he went into the bathroom to put it on before tying his robe shut again and putting on his slippers.

"I'm ready. Lead the way, Knox."

* * *

><p>A few moments later, they were entering the sauna. William found to his dismay that his glasses immediately fogged up upon entering the steaming room. He tried wiping them off with his robe sleeve, but they just fogged up again. With a sigh, he felt his way over to a bench and he inadvertently groped Ronald's bum in the process.<p>

"Whoa there!" Ronald gasped, stiffening as he hung his robe on a peg and slipped his glasses into it's pocket, "An invitation to the Sauna isn't an invitation to get so familiar." he teased, turning around, "Benches are over there."

He shut the door to the sauna and took a deep breath. The air was warm and damp, water sizzling on hot stones to create steam. The small room smelled sweetly of fresh cedar, the damp air strengthening the scent of the polished wood making up the floor, walls, ceiling, and benches lining the walls in different levels.

The sauna was also empty, giving the two reapers privacy for the time-being. Ronald took a pale of water and splashed some on the heated stones in the corner before he moved over to the benches and lay down across a mid-level bench, stretching out with only his towel for modesty.

"Come on." he smiled at William's blurry figure, "I think you'll really enjoy this. It's relaxing, and it has health and therapeutic benefits. No alcohol or noise."

William followed him to the bench and gingerly sat down upon it. He'd been to a sauna before once, but it was full of other men and the smell of sweat eventually drove him out. Ronald, however, didn't seem to stink much when he perspired—or perhaps that was just his own subconscious mind affecting the way he perceived body odors from him.

While Ronald certainly seemed relaxed as he lay down and sighed, William sat on the edge of his seat, hands clasped over his knees. He wished he had something to read or some paperwork—and then he realized what a ridiculous notion that was.

_~Yes, very good…do paperwork or read a book inside a steam room. Brilliant idea, Spears. Why not attempt origami swans while you're at it?~_

He was embarrassed over apparently grabbing Ronald somewhere inappropriate by accident, and he was trying to clear his mind of the incident.

Ronald glanced up at Will and sighed, "I'm not even wearing my glasses and I can tell you are tense. Come on, we are off the clock and have no more work until tomorrow. Enjoy it." He sat up and moved behind Will, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back slightly as he began to rub his shoulders, "It'll help. Promise."

Will flailed a little and sputtered, but he made himself relax and tried not to fight his companion's efforts. "It really isn't necessary," he said…but he heard the lack of conviction in his own voice as Ronald's hands began to rub and knead his shoulders. His eyes closed and a groan surfaced in his throat. It felt…heavenly. Nobody had ever offered to do this for him unless he paid them for it.

"I know." Ronald shrugged, "But I also know it's nice to be spoiled sometimes. And you work harder than anyone I know. I may not be very good at this kind a' thing, but it's better than leaving my partner all tense and stressed. I know you think I slack off a lot, but doing things like this, relaxing and getting away from the stress of work, it helps more than it harms."

William bowed his head, enjoying the treatment all too much. Ronald had very attentive, talented hands. He seemed to find tension knots that William wasn't even aware he had, and every moment he worked on him relaxed him more.

"If you ever decide to take a side hobby," murmured the brunet, "I would like to suggest you consider masseuse as an option."

"I'm not that good at it." Ronald said, moving further down Will's back and finding more knots, "Sweet Rhea, your back is like a gnarly old tree—do you ever relax?"

"Hmph…I've forgotten the meaning of the word," admitted William dryly, "though I feel I'm beginning to for the first time in a while, thanks to you."

It wasn't at all like him to express such gratitude, but he felt Ronald honestly deserved at least that much. The chipper young agent was like an anchor for him lately, keeping him from slipping and reminding him of who and what he was.

"Maybe I'll have to do this for you after we get back to London, too, then." Ron suggested, "Can't have you this tense all the time…"

Catching himself leaning forward, his lips tempted to press a kiss to the man's exposed shoulders, Ronald pulled himself back and quietly reminding himself not to get ahead of himself or start thinking there was more between them than there was.

"If you want to lay down, I can reach more of your back more easily," he suggested.

"Mmm," murmured William, too appreciative of the treatment to argue with that. It did hurt a bit when the blond rubbed the particularly tense spots, but it was a good pain. He could feel the knots slowly loosening and he complied with his companion's suggestion readily, scooting over a bit before lying down on his stomach.

"Thank you, Knox," he sighed, again displaying uncommon gratitude. He hardly recognized his own voice, in fact. Was _that_ what he sounded like, whenever he wasn't stiffly adhering to his detached stoicism? He supposed he must have spoken like that long ago, when he was still a youth in the academy. That was before he gathered the strength of will and determination to banish his personal feelings for the sake of the job…before his first reaping assignment with Grell.

"Now you're getting it." Ronald smiled warmly as he adjusted to kneel more comfortably next to William, his fingers and palms eased the knots out of his back and running along his strong back and shoulders. "This is nice, right?"

All William could do in response was groan with pleasure. He honestly hadn't realized how tense he was, until the blond began to work his magic on him. One arm flopped limply over the side of the bench, the fingers dragging the floor, while the other pillowed his cheek. He wasn't even that bothered by the fog covering the lenses of his glasses anymore. Against conscious thought, he began to imagine his companion's talented hands on other parts of his body and he just went with it, pretending for the sake of the fantasy that he was not Ronald's boss, they weren't caught up in the middle of the war and it wouldn't be entirely inappropriate for him to yank Ron's towel off and have his way with him.

It was a very pleasant fantasy, and William's lips curved into a quiet little smile as he allowed his mind to play it out. Unfortunately, said fantasy was causing a condition beneath his towel that was going to be very obvious once he sat up. He couldn't even care about that right now, though. There was only the hiss of steam, the feel of Ronald's hands on his body and his own depraved thoughts.

Ronald eased Will's back, shoulders, and neck until he stopped finding new knots and William seemed completely relaxed. With a smile, he lay back on his back again and looked up at the ceiling, "Thanks for putting up with me on this." he muttered, closing his eyes.

"Mmm?" Missing the contact but not one to whine about it, William opened one eye and turned his head. "Putting up with you on what? Coming to the sauna?" His thoughts were still on his fantasies and he flushed a bit with the realization that he was going to have to be stuck in that position for a while, until his arousal ebbed.

"That, and me working so hard at making you relax and just forget about work. I know you hate it when Grell-senpai tries to do so, but you really seemed to need this."

William snorted softly and answered in a dry voice. "Sutcliff's idea of relaxing me is to try and give me uninvited lap-dances. I find your methods far more tolerable."

Though at the moment, he doubted he would object to Ronald giving him a lap dance.

_~Just stop it. Heavens, you are behaving as a letch.~_

He kept his thoughts and his condition carefully concealed from his companion, maintaining a neutral tone of voice so that he wouldn't give away his little…what? Crush? Infatuation? Honestly, he didn't know what name to give his issue. The only reaper that William had ever felt a crush for was the Undertaker—and that was partly hero worship for a legend that was long-gone. The mortician was not the reaper he used to be…not by far. William respected him for his past service, but every time he'd seen him since his retirement, he felt like he was gazing at a shadow of what the man used to be. It saddened him inside.

What he felt for Ronald wasn't the same. He could only call it lust, and most reapers would not blame him for that. The boy was charming and he attracted admirers with hardly any effort; just like his party buddy Slingby—who Ronald had apparently had intimate relations with on more than one occasion.

William could just imagine the nosebleeds it would cause if the ladies in Human Resources that fawned over the two of them found out about their little trysts. He huffed with amusement at the thought.

"What's so entertaining?" Ron asked, hearing the amused huff escape William. He was pretty sure the man hadn't meant to let out escape, but it had, and now he was curious.

William tempered his amusement and made up an excuse. "The steam made me cough."

_~If ever there were a time to check yourself, Spears, now is it.~_

He tried to block out the image of those secretaries slowly flooding the entire floor with their nosebleeds at the sight of Ron and Eric kissing, but he was tired and a bit giddy. Another huff escaped him…and a chuckle after that. The harder he tried to stifle it, the worse it became.

_~G-good heavens, I don't even have alcohol to blame on this! I've got to pull myself together.~_

Ronald scooted to the edge of the bench he was laying on, being a level above William, and hung his head down in front of his face, "That's definitely a laugh. Is the heat getting to you? We _have_ been in here a while." He sighed and got up, not yet ready to leave, "You know what's refreshing that I like to do when in a sauna or a hot tub? Give my body a shock. It feels nice. The shower right outside gives off cold water. I like to douse myself in it and then come back in." he suggested.

A cold shower…yes. That might shock some sense back into him and get rid of the issue going on below his waist, as well. William carefully got off his stomach and turned on the bench. "I think I shall partake in that suggestion," he announced, carefully adjusting his towel to be sure nothing was peeking out. At least the tent wasn't quite as obvious as before.

"I won't be long." William got up and left, keeping his back to Ronald the entire time to lessen the chances of him noticing the state he was in.

"I'll do the same when you get back." Ron shrugged, getting up to go splash more water on the heated rocks. Watching as steam rolled up from them and filled the small room again.

William went to where Ronald indicated, and he hung his towel over the side of the door as he stepped into the stall. He put his glasses up on the little shelf above the sprayer and he took a moment to brace himself. He cursed as he turned the cold water on and it struck his skin, giving rise to goosebumps. It certainly did the job of shocking him out of his strange, half-hysterical mood…and his balls were trying to retreat back into his body. He bore it stoically, turning around and closing his eyes with distressed little gasps. He turned it back off after a moment and he sighed, grateful that both problems seemed to be corrected.

"Well, that takes care of that," he murmured in satisfaction, and he reached for his towel—only to find it gone.

William wiped water out of his eyes and blinked, fumbling for the glasses he'd put up. Thankfully, they were still there, and he replaced them over his eyes and cautiously opened the stall door a crack, suspecting that his towel had fallen and landed outside. It was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, bloody hell," groaned William. Could _nothing_ go right for him, lately?

He poked his head out and looked around for any sign of the thief—or anyone else nearby. Seeing nobody, he hastily stepped out of his chosen stall and into the next one, hoping he'd find a spare towel there.

Nothing.

German curses filled the air.

* * *

><p>Ronald sighed, waiting for William to come back. The seconds ticked by and turned into minutes. It shouldn't take so long to shock his body with cold and then hurry back into the sauna refreshed. Maybe William got lost?<p>

After another minute or two of waiting, Ronald got up to go look for William. He really shouldn't have gotten lost. The shower was literally just outside the sauna—unless he'd gone to the pool instead. But the man didn't have swimming trunks and he really didn't strike Ronald as the kind of man to skinny dip, especially in a public pool.

Opening the door to the sauna, Ronald was met by a rush of sweet cold air, and the sound of unknown words being shouted in German. Maybe William had run into some people who had a beef with him or something?

"Senpai?" Ronald walked around to the shower stalls and stopped dead in his tracks. His wide eyes glued to the blurry vision of William standing completely naked. His glasses were not on, but he didn't need them to see a lack of towel which granted the man his modesty. For once, the lively blond was rendered speechless.

Unaware of his audience in his personal distress, William stood outside the third and final stall with his hands on his hips in an aggravated pose, lips compressed tightly. Someone had seen fit to help themselves to his towel—whether as a prank or because they lacked one themselves and were under the mistaken impression that his was free for the taking.

"Did they _not_ hear the shower running?" he groused. He almost suspected Knox of doing it just to have a laugh at his expense, but he couldn't imagine the blond doing such a thing at a time like this—not when he was clearly so concerned with his mental health. Knox was a mischievous fellow, true, but he knew when to pick his moments and this was just plain _mean._

_~Perhaps I can sneak back into the sauna and grab my robe before Knox notices my state of nudity,~_ he reasoned. _~He naps like a professional, after all. He'll probably be in a doze when I return, and I can be covered before he even acknowledges I'm back.~_

Head down, William began to hurry back around to the other side of the building, inwardly praying that nobody came along and saw him. Of course in this part of Shinigami Europe, they might not care even if someone _did_ spot him. They were a bit more casual about nudity here than at home; but he couldn't toss away his conservative modesty, all the same.

He didn't see his young companion standing there until he was nearly on top of him. In fact, he saw Ronald's bare feet before he saw anything else, and William's face flushed as he lifted his head and met the other reaper's wide, staring eyes. Naked of spectacles, there was still no chance that Ron hadn't gotten a good eyeful at such close range.

William hastily cupped both hands over his groin and cleared his throat. "Someone saw fit to help themselves to my towel whilst I was showering," he offered in a rushed, flat explanation. He couldn't move, and he flushed deeper when the blond's gaze traveled over him and fixated on the part he was trying to conceal. His hands didn't quite cover it all.

"I…I…" Ronald was unable to stop staring—eyeing the handsome man up and down. Even without his glasses he could tell that William was well endowed and it wasn't helping his imagination. He'd been working so hard at keeping things between them, for the most part, professional. To not let his secret attraction to the man out of control. But now William was standing in front of him, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination body-wise.

~_Damn it all to Styx, Knox! Stop being so bloody rude and disrespectful, you love-sick idiot! Don't forget he's your boss!_~ he scolded himself.

"I'll—go get you a fresh towel. Go get your robe for now and—I'll be right back!" he squeaked, turning away and hurrying towards the front desk in the lobby.

Wishing he had a bag to put over his head as well as one for his groin, William zipped into the sauna—possibly moving faster than he'd ever moved in his life. He pulled the robe on thankfully and he stepped out into the cool air. It was rather pointless for Ron to fetch a towel for him now; he was quite finished with the sauna for the night after such an embarrassing episode. He leaned back against the outer wall of the steam room, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes with a sigh.

"Were I a believer in fate, I would be certain it was having a joke at my expense, now."

Poor Knox was clearly traumatized by the sight of his boss standing there in the buff when he came around the corner, and William regretted not seeing him sooner. He'd have called out to him from inside one of the shower stalls, had he any idea he was nearby, and the awkward situation might have been avoided.

Ronald got the new towel quickly, but took his time getting back, pausing in the halls to shove his face in William's fresh towel. "Get it out of your head, Knox. Not like the man wanted to be naked for your enjoyment! Stop thinking about it. Just forget about it. The man is probably embarrassed like crazy!"

With a heavy sigh, Ronald continued on and walked back to the sauna, "Got it for you." he said, holding it up as he approached William, hiding his pinkened face with it.

William took it, and he honestly didn't know what to do with it. His face was in the shadows, concealing his own flush of mortification. "Thank you."

He met Ronald's eyes briefly and he found he couldn't look away. There was something there…he was sure of it. His lips parted as their eyes locked, and he couldn't tell whether Ronald's blush was due to embarrassment over catching him in the nude, or something else.

"I…apologize," William said softly. "I was trying to get back inside and into my robe without you noticing. It wasn't my intention to…reveal myself to you that way."

He'd practically run over the fellow. That was what he got for not paying attention to where he was going.

Ronald shook his head quickly, "I'm sorry for staring—uh, lets just…forget it happened." he suggested, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

"Gladly," sighed William…though he couldn't 'forget' about it, nor could he forget about the lust he thought he saw in Ronald's eyes. "I think I'm going to retire for the evening, actually. I could use a good rest."

Still clutching the towel that he no longer needed, William sought out his slippers—which were thankfully still by the sauna door—and he put them on. "Goodnight, Mr. Knox. I would advise you not to stay up too late. We have another long day ahead of us, tomorrow."

Ronald nodded, "I'll…try not to wake you when I get back up to the room."

He didn't really care for staying longer after everything, but he wanted the time alone to calm his mind, and he was sure William would also appreciate the privacy for an hour or so more.

* * *

><p>-To be continued<p>


	5. Chapter 5

Their obligation to this war seemed to go on and on. William and Ronald traveled all across Europe; reaping, fighting off demons, and witnessing more horrors along the way than either of them had ever imagined. They crossed paths with Grell and his partner from time to time when their assignments took them to the same locations, but they never remained in one area for longer than two days. As they moved from location to location, more instances of blank cinematic records sprang up, and there were apparently reports of the same thing coming from other locations surrounding Germany.

From the end of January to the middle of March, most of their assignments took place in cities and towns under Nazi control throughout Poland, Ukraine, Romania and of course, Germany itself. The allies were pushing to liberate outer territories taken over by the Axis, and occupy those that were part of the Third Reich.

In early March, both William and Ronald got severely injured during an air raid over Essen, in the Ruhr valley. A bomb dropped too close to them and the building they ran to for cover collapsed on top of them. Ronald spent a little over a week in a German Shinigami hospital recovering, before they were released and deemed fit to resume their duties. The camaraderie between them grew—as could be expected when two people had to wade through hell on earth together and rely on each other for survival—but neither of them acted on the underlying attraction they felt. Both stubbornly clung to the assumption that it could never amount to anything good, and both did their best to hide it from each other.

On March 11th, shortly after their release from medical care, the partnered London agents were sent to Kharkov in Ukraine. German troops had begun an invasion there and were embroiled in a fight against the Red Army for control of it. This would be the first time either of them had been sent to reap outside city walls. There were bodies of SS Panzer Corps troops scattered around they had directly engaged their opposition and hundreds died in the process of breaking through the defenses.

* * *

><p>Compared to the noise of explosions, gunfire and screaming within the city, the grasslands that William and Ronald now walked through were almost peaceful—but for the carrion birds and the moans of dying and wounded troops. They passed by a German medical encampment where injured soldiers were brought to be tended to, if at all possible. So far they had reaped two each…but the list was very long. There were severed and burned limbs and various body parts scattered throughout the area; some blown off from land-mines, others from artillery fire.<p>

The smell made William want to vomit, and he decided to quit breathing and communicate with his partner through hand gestures. He found another of their targets and he waved Ronald over to cover him while he reaped.

Ronald, also having ceased his breathing, nodded and looked around for a good vantage point where he could station himself to keep watch for demons and any other problems that may present itself to he and his partner. Unfortunately there were none in this particular area, and he took to having to sweep the area, walking around to get a clear view in all directions. Towns were easier. There were buildings to perch on. Here there wasn't even a sturdy tree; many of them having been damaged by explosions.

Everything seemed to be as safe as a battlefield could be. In the distance where the fighting had advanced to, there were shouts, cries, gunfire, and explosions, but the wide areas free of walls and buildings let the sound be swallowed up by the air, making things more pleasant sound-wise, and it helped Ronald listen for the tell-tale signs of a demon.

Since Ronald had started helping William relax after they got back to their hotel room, The man had really cleaned up his act and behaved much more like the William T. Spears he knew while out on the field, so he didn't have to worry about the records getting out of control on the man—which was good. It was one less distraction…one less thing to keep an active eye out for when he was covering William.

More blank records had also been turning up, however. At first it was just one or two per week. Not for them, but for all the reapers working the field in this war. The Board of Higher Reapers simply told everyone to ignore it and write it off as another soul lost during a time of war. However, it had started happening more and more as the months passed, causing a bit of alarm to turn up in the dispatch community.

Ronald completed another wide circle around William's collection site and he glanced back at him in time to see the man finish it up. Good. Every successful collection made things much easier on everyone. On to the next target.

William tethered his scythe back to his wrist and he tugged his uniform cap lower over his eyes, shielding them from the sun. Most of the fighting outside the city had occurred in the dark hours of the morning, before the city was breached an hour or so after sunrise. The air was chilled, the frost of winter still lingering before the coming of spring. He walked over to Ronald and he checked the list again. Today he wore his prescription sunglasses, having stashed his regular ones in it's case—which he kept in the supply pack attached to his belt.

"Hmm." William's mouth drew into a frown of concentration as he read the list and checked his compass. "The next three targets should be over there, near that copse of trees."

He pointed a black-gloved finger in the direction of the coordinates, where he could feel the death aura already. "That way. The first two are closest. The third is further away from the trees, a few yards away."

Taking the lead, William began his trek towards the targets, watching the ground before him carefully for trip-wires and odd mounds.

Ronald followed carefully behind William. Many mines and trip wires had already been triggered, but there was always the chance of encountering one that was still live. Triggering one wouldn't kill the two reapers, but it would put them out of action for an extended period of time.

"You'd think the tech department would work to create something that would disarm things left on the battlefields that could harm us dispatch agents." The blond complained as he side-stepped a suspicious mound, "Save us time, energy, and keep us safe and able to do our jobs more efficiently. We already have bullets and demons and sky-bombs to worry about! And not to mention—Hhhah!"

Ronald was startled by a man, not quite dead a few feet away, pulling himself along the ground despite his missing arm and a broken leg, triggering a trip wire. As blood splattered towards Ronald, he stepped back out of an involuntary reaction—and his heart seemed to stop; a small click sounding as his foot came down on the mound he had just seconds before carefully stepped around, and it sank in ever so slightly.

~_shit_~

Wide-eyed and frozen in place, Ronald looked at his partner, who had turned his attention to the man who'd just been killed, checking their collection list and finding a new name had been added. He watched with a dry mouth and quickened heart as William turned to collect the man's soul while they were there, unaware of Ronald's bad step and the fact that if the blond moved for any reason, he'd be blown to bits.

"S-S-Senpai…pr-problem." he choked in a small, broken voice he wasn't sure William could hear.

William thought he heard a weak sound from his companion, and he glanced up. Seeing Ronald standing a few feet away with a terrified expression on his suddenly colorless face, he frowned. "What is it?"

"I…I can't—my foot…" Ronald slowly pointed down at his firmly planted foot that had sunk into the small mound, "I—I think I—stepped on something."

William's eyes widened slightly as he looked down, and he hastily finished gathering the last of the reels he was drawing in. "Oh, hells. Not that it needs saying, but do _not_ move, Ronald. Releasing the pressure will set it off. Let me think for a moment."

He moved closer to study the mound, and he estimated how much Ronald weighed. He looked at his scythe. It could extend an incredibly long distance, but the question was whether or not he could wedge it under Ronald's foot and keep enough pressure on the trigger for the two of them to get a safe distance away.

"Ronald, listen to me," said William in a calm voice—though inwardly his tension was wound up like a coil about to snap. "I am going to create a portal to our realm. Once I've done that, I intend to try and wedge my scythe under your foot to hold the trigger down while you come to me. Once I have it wedged, come to my side and we shall back up towards the portal before I release it. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." Ronald whimpered. What a stupid, careless thing to do! Stepping without looking where his foot may land! He was scared. He was legitimately scared that he and William would be seriously hurt for a long time over his mistake. And so soon after their previous stay in a hospital.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered.

"Don't be sorry, be alert," demanded William. He formed a portal behind him for them to fall back through, before beginning the delicate task before him. He started to perspire beneath his cap as he extended his scythe toward the foot on top of the mine. "Steady, Knox…steady."

He stopped it at the bottom of Ronald's boot and he pushed cautiously, rocking the pole from side to side to wedge the blade up under it, little by little. When he surmised that he had it where most of the weight was resting, he looked up from his task and met Ronald's eyes. He reached out to him with his free hand and beckoned.

"Come to me now…be quick."

"Are you sure this'll work?" Ronald asked, reaching out and grabbing William's hand with a trembling one, "If—you don't then you can get to a safe place and I'll take it all myself and then only one of us will be stuck in the hospital!" He didn't want to get hurt, but he didn't want to see William get hurt, either. He could at least make sure William didn't. He himself was a little screwed on that front.

"I will not leave you to become the victim of a landmine," said William sternly, pulling the blond toward him. He put an arm around him once Ronald was clear of the trigger, pressing down with all his might on his scythe to keep the trigger from releasing. "Now…let's back away slowly. I'll continue to extend my scythe as we go, to put as much distance between ourselves and that mine as possible. Once we reach the portal, I'll retract the scythe and we'll dive through—hopefully with minimal injuries."

When he was tugged off the mine, Ronald stumbled against William, and he didn't bother to pull away, backing up slowly with William, holding onto him for comfort. He was off it, but they were still in danger.

He watched as they got closer and closer to the portal. Finally arriving within a half step into it. "Okay—ready when you are." he breathed.

"Very well," said the brunet, holding him more tightly. "On the count of three. One…two…_three_!"

William retracted his scythe and jumped backwards through the portal with Ronald at the same time. The land mine went off with a spray of dirt and flames, and he felt the searing heat against his skin just before they landed on the other side of the portal. William's breath escaped in a pained huff as he and his companion landed on the hard concrete of the Shinigami version of the same city they'd just been outside of. He lay there with Ronald, both arms wrapped around him now in a reflexive embrace. He saw clear blue skies up above, and he realized absently that his uniform hat had fallen off. His sunglasses were askew and smeared, but whole.

William turned his head to look at the smaller reaper beside him. "Knox, are you injured?"

"I—I'm whole, at least." Ronald gasped in surprise, adrenaline pumping through his body. He honestly couldn't tell if he had been injured, but he could at least feel that he had two arms and two legs still.

Breathing hard, Ronald lifted his head, looking down at William. His glasses were down at the tip of his nose, and his hat was also missing. "Are…are you?" he panted.

William relaxed his hold on Ronald and he cautiously patted his body, finding singed bits on his uniform, but feeling no pain. "I seem to be whole," he murmured.

He'd seen men caught up in this fight wander around in shock, seeking out their own missing limbs because they were too dazed to feel the pain of dismemberment. Sitting up painfully, he got to his feet and he stared down at his companion for a moment. So close…he'd come so close to watching Ronald get blown to bits. Could he have managed to gather him up and bring him in to be stitched back together again? He thought of Humpty Dumpty, and he loathed himself for the comparison.

"We made it," he said simply, offering a gloved hand to help his companion to his feet. "Shaken, but whole. I think a reprieve is in order, before we return to the other side to finish our collections."

Ronald took a deep breath, checking himself over before accepting William's help, hoping his shaky legs could hold him. "Thank Rhea," he sighed as he was pulled to his feet. "That was way more excitement than I ever want to have on the field again." His admission was the closest he'd let himself get to admitting to his partner and boss that he was scared shitless and was simply glad he hadn't wet his pants.

"It was nerve wracking," agreed William, impulsively putting an arm around Ronald to steady him.

It really didn't feel like a strong enough description, to him. In that moment when he thought he'd have to watch his partner get blown up, something was shaken loose inside of him and he wasn't quite sure he could stuff it back into the box from whence it came. He looked around and he spotted a cafe across the street. The few reaper civilians in the area looked at them curiously in passing; but they were likely used to the sight of frazzled Dispatch agents teleporting in from the other side, these days.

"There is a cafe," announced the brunet, making himself let go of his companion. He straightened his shades and he located his and Ronald's hats a few feet away. He went to retrieve them and he brushed his off before putting it back on his head and offering Ronald's to him. "Let's have a drink to calm our nerves and try to eat something before we return to the field, shall we?"

Ronald nodded and took a deep, calming breath to try and steady his legs before walking across to the cafe. One look at his and William's uniforms, and Ronald sighed. "So much for these issued uniforms…gonna have to send in for replacements. It'll be too much work to repair them and even then they'd not look right."

Not that he really cared that they were ruined. He hated having to wear the uniform that represented the Nazi party which were causing so much grief and death in the mortal world. It would be one undercover uniform he would not be keeping in his possession. But it was a way to try to distract himself from enjoying the way William had held him. The man was only helping him. Not showing him affection, after all!

Unaware of Ronald's inner dilemma, William guided his steps over to the cafe and he pushed the door open for both of them. He asked the man working behind the counter where they could sit, and he told him to choose any seat he liked. William looked around until he found a quiet, shadowed spot in a booth near the back. He nodded at it and directed Ronald over to it, helping him sit down before sliding in opposite of him. With a soft sigh of relief, William took his hat and gloves off and retrieved his comb from his pocket to groom his hair back into place. He looked at Ronald's dirt-smudged face and blank stare, and he tapped the table with his fingertips to get his attention.

"What would you like to eat, Ronald?" He nodded at the menu sitting by the napkin dispenser. "They have English translations beneath the selections here, so you should have no trouble finding something to your liking."

"Something calming…like tea would be good, since we are still working and can't have a nice scotch after all that…" Ronald muttered before realizing that tea wasn't 'something to eat'. Hoping he wasn't called out on that, he opened the menu and scanned over the English translations written in tiny text under the German descriptions of each dish. He rested his elbow on the table and cradled his chin in his hand as he lazily went over his options. He wanted something easy to eat, something that would help restore his energy but wouldn't upset his still nervous stomach.

"I think I'll have the potato and sausage soup," William decided after a glance at the menu, his thoughts running in a similar direction to Ronald's. "It doesn't look as though they have much of a tea selection, but they do have hot cocoa. I think I'll try that with a glass of water on the side."

He was only making small talk to distract both of them from the disaster they'd narrowly escaped. Inwardly, he wasn't fairing much better than Ronald, but it was times like these that he needed to be the strong one and lead by example.

"Everything here is sausages and potatoes." Ronald sighed, "I guess I'll have the same…maybe we should share that chocolate cake afterwards. I heard that chocolate can be good when you feel like you nearly got blown to bits…"

"I'm not certain I can stomach the richness of German chocolate cake right now, but perhaps if we share, as you say." William closed his menu. "I shall put our orders in now. What would you like to drink?"

"Is German chocolate terribly different than what we have in England?" Ronald frowned, looking over the drink menu. "…What kind of cafe doesn't have tea?"

"It's rumored to be delicious, but richer," answered William, "and as for the second question, this one, apparently." He smirked. "There are plenty of coffee selections, I've noticed, but I doubt being wired on caffeine is conductive to calming you down."

"I'm not big on coffee unless its morning and I had to get dragged out of bed way too soon." He set the menu down and looked at William, "Have you not had German chocolate before? I thought you were part German or something."

"I am," answered William, "but I cannot recall the last time I actually tasted some. I have some vague recollection, but…well, I tend to block out much of my childhood."

"Why? Germany's not that bad—well, except for what the mortal Nazi party are doing right now, but the rest is nice…and very…potato-obsessed based on every menu we get handed to us when we eat out."

William nearly chuckled at that. "Yes, well…potatoes and sausage are both staples of German cooking." He sighed and looked out the window. "I would like to return for a visit under more pleasant circumstances. As for my childhood, I really didn't enjoy much of one. Father was forever pushing me to do better, and my best was never good enough for him. Mother simply went along with whatever he said or did."

He got up and nodded toward the order counter. "I will go and put our orders in. Have you decided on a drink yet?"

"I'm surprised you didn't rebel and turn out, well, more like me." Ronald observed, "And uhh…maybe a glass of milk?" he suggested.

"I'm sure that's available," said William with a nod. He left to put their order in, and he returned a moment later with both their drinks. Setting Ronald's down before him, he took his seat again. "The food should be ready within fifteen minutes. In the meantime, we should discuss our next course of action when we get back to our daily mission. I believe I should take the lead and use my scythe to test the path before us, while we are collecting in an area riddled with landmines. I would like to avoid a repeat of the situation we narrowly escaped, if possible."

"No objections here… No way would I ever want to step on one again—ever!" The blond sighed and picked up the glass of milk, looking at it before taking a gulp. When he set the glass back down, he unknowingly supported a mustache of white.

William cleared his throat as a chuckle threatened, and he tapped his lips with a finger. "Ronald…"

"Hmm?" Ronald looked up at William, confused for a few seconds before what the man was trying to tell him. "Oh!" He grabbed a napkin and dried his lip, his cheeks pinkening.

William sipped his cocoa to control the smile he was fighting. Knox could be quite endearing without even trying, and for the stoic Dispatch supervisor, that could prove to be a dangerous thing. He had already grown much fonder of him in their time together as partners during this war. The forming of a bond between partners was to be expected in such drastic situations, but his feelings for Ronald were anything but platonic.

He'd even fantasized about leaning across the table to lick that milk mustache off, himself.

William cleared his throat. "Well then, let's try to keep our mind off of that close call and enjoy this break while we can, shall we?"

"We'll get a nice hour-hour and a half before we have to be back out there." Ron nodded, "And with any luck we can finish our collections without any more…distractions."

William thought of something entirely different from the disaster they'd narrowly avoided when Ronald mentioned "distractions". He drank more of his hot chocolate—too quickly—and ended up scalding his esophagus. He coughed and hastily reached for his ice water, gulping it down to sooth the burn.

"Yes, well," he managed after a moment, "we will both simply have to be more careful, won't we?"

"Are you okay?" Ronald asked, his eyes flickering between his partner and the hot drink, "Too hot?"

William nodded and dabbed his lips with his napkin. "A bit, yes." He heard the bell ring on the counter and he looked to see that their food was ready. "I'll go and get that."

He got up to retrieve their food, glad for the momentary distraction. He could not believe how inappropriate his thoughts and behavior were, but then having been through a scare like that was likely an understandable reason for it. He collected the two plates with the bowls of soup set on them and he balanced them with the skill of a professional waiter as he carried them back to the booth. He set down Ronald's before putting his own down and retaking his seat. His stomach growled as the aroma wafted up his nostrils. He didn't realize he was so hungry until he had actual food before him. He opened the package of crackers on the dish and he broke them up into his soup.

"This smells delightful," he sighed. The one thing he was going to miss about their time in Germany was easily the food. Perhaps that was why he'd avoided having any desserts, so far. He feared he might not want to leave at all, once he tasted authentic German chocolate again. But Ronald wanted to try some, so he supposed he was due for it.

Ronald picked up his spoon and swirled it in the soup to help cool it as he leaned forward and gently blew on its swirling surface. He ignored the crackers provided for the time-being because he preferred to use them to help scoop up the last few bites of soup once it got harder to get it on the spoon. After a moment, he raised a spoonful to his lips, giving it one last gentle puff of air before he slipped it in past his lips to deposit it onto his tongue.

"Not bad." He shrugged, dipping his soup spoon in the bowl for more, "It's no risotto, but it's nice." He smiled, "Filling, too."

William smirked a bit. "I should prepare my risotto for you, some time. Cooking is one of my guilty pleasures, when I can actually find time to do it." He blew on his first spoonful of soup and ate it, sighing with pleasure at the creamy texture and flavor. "I should procure more of my mother's people's traditional recipes and begin perfecting it. I had forgotten how much I enjoy this kind of food, to be honest. Knox, when this is finished, I am going to sign us both up for a weekend off, and we can try making a meal of your choice and a meal of mine."

He was feeling so relieved and so grateful that it didn't even occur to him that he was speaking so casually…and essentially asking Ronald to have a two-day date with him.

Ronald blinked, "As much as having a day off—let alone two—would be fantastic, I can't cook worth shit. I set the kitchen on fire every time I try and Grell-senpai banned me from ever trying it again after I set off the fire alarm in my apartment which is close to his, and his sprinklers went off same as mine when he was leaving for a date." He held up his hand, a small still-fading scar circling his thumb, "Cut off my thumb once, too…and I wasn't cooking. I was just trying to cut a slice of cheese."

"Gracious," remarked William with a stare. "Well then, I'll cook and you can be in charge of handing over ingredients to me as I do so. I can't imagine you getting into a terrible amount of trouble that way."

"Or I can handle the drinks. I'm great at mixing them!" Ronald boasted, and then paused, remembering who he was talking to, "Uh, Not just alcoholic drinks. I'm good at other drinks, too."

"Oh?" William took another bite of his soup and he washed it down with a swallow of water. "I'm rather fond of fruity smoothies. If I were to pick up some fresh fruit for the juicer, do you think you could manage that?"

Ronald nodded, "Of course. Make those all the time. Would you like it with, or without the vodka?" he added the last bit with a tease, his foot nudging Will's under the table before he could stop himself.

"With Vodka or Rum would be ideal on a day that I plan to imbibe," answered William with another little smirk, "but let's just see where the weekend takes us, shall we? It could be quite some time before we have the opportunity to indulge ourselves."

"Hopefully before this war ends…unless it ends tomorrow. That'd be nice." Ron chuckled, inwardly surprised that William Spears wanted alcohol in his drink. In some ways, he'd always imagined William to be more like Alan when it came to alcohol. Alan always refused it when it was offered. But then again…Will worked harder than anyone. Maybe a glass or two after work helped? Even if he didn't get drunk and just took the edge off life.

"It would, but it's highly unlikely." William sighed and spooned up another bite of soup. "I haven't a clue how long we can expect this conflict to go on, sadly. It could end in a few months or it could last for years. So many nations are embroiled in this war now. I can't imagine it getting resolved quickly."

He resumed eating, maintaining proper table manners despite his hunger.

"It's like the Great War all over again…only worse in some ways…" Ronald said, talking around his food, "But in that one I got to stay in London."

"This is quite possibly the worst mortal conflict I've ever witnessed," remarked William. "Though I am sure the Undertaker and other reapers before us have seen their share of terrible ones, too. I have often wondered if his madness sprang from seeing too many mortal wars, or being part of extra planar wars himself. Both he and Father Anderson served in the largest conflict to occur in the Shinigami realm in the history of our kind. The Demon Wars, if you have ever read about them. I wonder how many reaper deaths they bore witness to…and how many of those were friends."

He took another sip of his water. "It puts it all into perspective, when one considers it. Perhaps Anderson did not see as much as Legendary Death. He was assigned a non-combat position as a lookout, so I imagine he did not see so much of it up close and personal. Undertaker, however, was in the front ranks. He was a major combatant."

William's thoughts again went to the blank records that had been showing up with greater frequency. Could the old legend be responsible? What purpose could it possibly serve to erase all life events from a cinematic reel, and how would one even go about doing so?

"All I know of that war is that it happened and it ended in the forming of a treaty between reapers and demons… and angels, as well as a prevention of a war with them in the future. We had to memorize the terms of the peace treaty, but never learned much of the actual war." Ronald shrugged, sipping his milk and immediately wiping his lip just in case.

William nodded. "Yes, the constraints laid down upon us concerning interference with contracts between mortals and demons were a part of that treaty. Before that, contracted humans appeared on the death lists and Dispatch agents were encouraged to attempt collection before their demons could dine on their souls. I'm not particularly thrilled that we now must allow those vile beasts to feed on their contractees, but it was a necessary compromise. In addition, we are restricted from interfering with angelic 'purification' missions, provided they are sanctioned by the divine council. It's all very tedious, in my opinion."

He finished off his soup and he sat back with a sigh, pushing his bowl away. "Perhaps we'll have our answers concerning the erased cinematic records, before this conflict is over."

"Well, I hope so. I don't want to see it continue. We are losing a lot of souls between demons and blanks." Ronald opened his packet of crackers and used one to scoop up the remaining soup with it. "Paperwork for it sucks."

"Agreed," muttered William. He checked his watch. "I estimate we should be finished with today's collections by nightfall if we leave within fifteen minutes. I would like for this day to be finished, quite honestly."

"Cake first," Ronald reminded, finishing up the last bite of his soup. "Us sharing one shouldn't take us too long to eat. Do you want to go get it, or should I?"

"You choose," decided William. "I'll wait here."

With a nod, Ronald pushed himself to his feet, making sure his legs were steady before walking away from the table—only to stop mid-stride half way there to turn around and walk back. "I forget I'm in Germany and don't speak the language," he admitted, embarrassed.

"I've forgotten that as well," confessed William dryly. He wasn't usually the sort to be so forgetful himself, but the experience with the landmine had shaken him up as much as it had Ronald. He got up to go and make the order. "I won't be long."

"I shall be here trying not to grow a white mustache." Ronald grinned, picking up his half-drank glass of milk. He'd saved some to go with the cake.

William returned after a few minutes with a slice of cake split onto two plates. He set them down and took his seat again, gazing at his share with an odd sense of trepidation. How many memories might come flowing back, the moment he had his first taste of Black Forest cake since childhood? Memories of his father striking his hands with the extendable pointing rod he used during lessons, whenever William failed to answer a question. Memories of his mother sneaking this very same cake to him in his bedroom at night, because if he didn't excel at his lessons, his father would deny him dessert after supper.

He stared down at his portion as Ronald began to dig in, absently rolling a cherry around in the dollop of whipped cream on it. Unbeknownst to him, his expression betrayed his sadness as he began to miss his mother.

"Now this is what I call dessert!" Ronald hummed in content as he flavor assaulted his tongue, "Totally makes up for the endless potatoes!" He glanced up at William and frowned. "You okay?"

William shook himself out of it and slipped his mask of stoicism on again, nodding. "Of course. I was just allowing my stomach to rest for a moment before eating mine."

He began to dig in, and to his surprise, the familiar taste of the dessert brought back more good memories than bad.

* * *

><p>The pair got back to their hotel room late. Their paperwork had taken longer to complete and file away than they had expected causing them to delay their return to their temporary home. Two AM struck on the large clock tower a few blocks away from the hotel, causing Ronald to groan as he opened the door with their key.<p>

"Two in the bloody morning…and we both need showers. Who's the lucky one to get it first?"

The blond slumped against the wall and reached down to take off his shoes and socks first before moving to his uniform. The uniform was ruined, so he didn't bother taking care of it, simply dropping it to the floor by his feet until he was only in his slacks. His muscles flexed as he stretched and moved his arms to try and relieve some of the tension that had built up, and he cracked his neck. Dirt and scorch marks had found its way to his skin, the back of his left shoulder having gotten hit the worst, the skin inflamed from a burn.

"I'm gonna be sore tomorrow for sure…"

"You should go first," offered William. "You took the worst of it…again." He nearly smirked at Ronald, but he caught himself before making the teasing expression. He really needed to avoid flirting with him, if at all possible.

"Thanks, Will." Ronald flashed a soft smile and leaned in without thinking, his exhausted mind forgetting to put up a wall of self reminders that they were work partners and nothing more as his lips brushed against the man's cheek in a fleeting kiss. He turned into the bath and closed the door, locking it before he froze in realization at what he'd done.

William stood there in a stupor, watching as the blond vanished behind the bathroom door. "Oh, heavens," he muttered to himself harshly, "it was merely a gesture of gratitude. No need to get flustered."

But flustered, he was. His thoughts about Ronald were anything but professional or pure, and he sighed. What a horrid leader he was…lusting after his subordinate so much.

Ronald sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do to take back his action, and he couldn't avoid facing William for long. He turned on the water and stepped in, taking his time in showering, letting the soap and water wash away the sweat and dirt, through he babied his burned shoulder when he scrubbed it. It'd be healed by morning, but it did hurt.

Once he was done and dry, he slipped on his boxers and walked out of the bathroom, his glasses steamed over.

"Uh, you're turn," he said, looking away, "and…sorry I didn't mean to—you know…I'm just real tired and wasn't thinking…" he apologized, his cheeks flushing.

"Think nothing of it," excused William, his own cheeks still warm. "We are, both of us, exhausted and fatigue tends to make one careless."

He gathered his pajamas and went into the bathroom for his turn. As he turned the shower on and adjusted the temperature, he could not get his mind off of that seemingly innocent little kiss. He and Ronald had grown much closer, and the bond was getting stronger with each day. Was it really so improper to begin thinking of him as a lover, as well as a comrade? After all, soldiers formed close bonds in war. He smirked as he undressed and stepped into the shower. He doubted most soldiers considered shagging their companions, though.

William sighed and let the water spray over him, bowing his head. He'd been through these self-arguments before. Just because he had developed an attraction—even feelings—for Ronald, did not mean that he had an excuse to act on it. He took his time, turning the heat down to cool his ardor. He needed to focus. When this was finished and they no longer had the stress of war influencing their thoughts and feelings, perhaps he and Ronald could sort this out.

He finished up and dried off, before slipping into his pajamas and towel-drying his hair. He combed it into place and exited the bathroom, trying to keep things on a more casual level with his partner. "I believe I shall order dinner to be brought to our room, rather than dining downstairs," he announced. "I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm personally not in the mood to dine with strangers tonight."

Ronald grunted and rolled over, having been in a doze on his bed. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his glasses and pushing them back on his face, "I dun' wanna really put clothes back on," he yawned. "Forgot about Dinner…yeah, probably shouldn't skip that." He stretched as if he was going to stand back up, but instead he fell back across his bed, arms spread out.

"Order something that will come fast and can be eaten fast, though…don't want to use it as a pillow."

William smirked, sharing his sentiments. "Perhaps something from the sandwich selection, then."

He picked up the menu sitting on the table and he carried it over to the phone to order. "Would you prefer roast beef, ham or the potato sandwich?" He kept his tone casual as he glanced at the blond, awaiting his reaction and answer.

"Ham," Ronald said quickly. "No more potatoes tonight for Knoxy. —With extra cheese if possible," he added as an afterthought.

The fact that Ronald didn't even blink when William teasingly told him there was a potato sandwich on the menu testified that the blond was finally getting used to the German love for the root vegetable. He glanced at the menu again and he blinked. There actually _was_ a potato sandwich on the menu. German potato salad on rye.

"Goodness," he muttered. So much for his attempt at a joke. He picked up the phone and dialed room service to order Ronald's choice and a roast beef sandwich for himself. Once he'd finished with that, he relaxed on his bed. At least these accommodations offered two twin beds, rather than one double or queen. He honestly feared his hands might wander in his sleep if he had to share a bed with Ronald again—especially after that little peck on the cheek, earlier.

William picked up the book he'd brought and he turned his bedside lamp on a dim setting to begin reading it. "Ronald," he said absently, "Teach me to say something in Italian. I'm rather interested in learning the language, eventually. Perhaps I can teach you a few simple phrases in German, as well."

"Hmmm… '_Lavoro straordinario succhia palle,'_" he said slowly so that the man could hear how he spoke the words.

"_Lavoro straordinario succhia palle,_" repeated William slowly, careful to enunciate each word the way Ronald had. "Now, what did I just say?"

Ronald snickered and tried hard to hold back laughter. "Finally, the man admits it!" He sat up and crawled to the edge of his bed, a cocky grin on his face. "You just admitted that Working overtime sucks balls."

William's first reaction was to get annoyed, but instead, he found a smile growing on his lips. As much as he assigned it to both himself and his underlings, he despised overtime as much as the next reaper. "Well then, I suppose it does," he agreed. "A necessary evil, nonetheless."

"Necessary, sure, but you are the only person I know who doesn't complain about it! Well, at least not openly and where others can hear you. Give the impression that you like it which just isn't natural."

"I assure you, I like it no better than you. I've been longing for a day off since…well, since I first became supervisor of our department. Sometimes I miss the days of taking orders, rather than giving them."

He tilted his head as he looked up from his book again at the blond. "Would you like to learn a phrase in German?"

"Hmmm…here's an order, then." Ronald stretched himself over the gaps between the beds and settled himself on William's, folding his legs, "Teach your sexy junior some German until dinner gets to the door. Something useful so I'm not so lost in this country."

William was so distracted by the sudden change of Ronald's location that he spoke without fully considering the connotations of the phrase. "_Steigen sie mit mir aus, bitte._"

"What's it mean?" Ronald asked, taking caution before repeating the words. He didn't want to unknowingly agree to not complain about overtime once they got back to London—or something.

"Get off with me," answered the brunet. His eyes widened behind the lenses of his glasses as he realized how that sounded. "As in off a bus or other transport," he hastily explained, his face heating with embarrassment. He glanced at Ronald from behind his book, hoping the blond's mind didn't go to pornographic places. He could see by the smirk on his lips that it had, and he lifted the book up to hide his face as his blush deepened.

"Hmm, has it been that long for you?" Ron smirked, "So long that you're feeling the need and so your mind's in the gutter, taking the dirty meaning over the obvious one?" He nudged the man's leg with his foot and scootched closer, lowering his voice. "If you need it, just tell me."

William lowered the book and stared at him, properly flabbergasted. Did Ronald just…offer himself to him? "I beg your pardon?" His eyes swept over the blond, lingering on his bare chest and abs. Good heavens, that was a tempting offer. All of his propriety nearly went out the window. He started to lean in closer to the attractive young blond, his pulse quickening. "What if I were to take you up on that offer, Knox?"

"Not tonight, of course—way too tired." Ron shrugged as if it was no big deal, "But like, this weekend when we have more time off according to our schedule…I could go out on my own for a bit while you do whatever you do for it."

Really, he wanted to offer it himself, but he refused to let himself. It wouldn't be meaningless on his part, and he knew he'd hurt himself emotionally having casual sex with his crush—far more than knowing the man was having sex with someone else.

William blinked, finally realizing that he was speaking of something else entirely. He felt an unreasonable sense of disappointment. Of _course_ Ronald would offer for him to…arrange a meeting with another party. Why did he entertain thoughts to the contrary?

"I…see." William pulled back, faintly mortified that he'd come close to cupping the back of Ron's head and crushing his mouth against his for the kiss he'd so often been fantasizing about. "That will not be necessary, Ronald. I do appreciate the offer."

_~I'd have appreciated you offering _your_ body to me even more, but that is such a foolish, unprofessional notion.~_

He wondered if it just came naturally for Ronald Knox to flirt without conscious thought. He'd been so sure for a moment that the younger reaper…but then, the kiss from earlier had addled his thoughts…made him imagine things that weren't there. How silly of him. He tried to return his attention to his book and forget about the moment he'd felt that might have resulted in him shagging his underling into a coma.

Ronald opened his mouth to respond when a knock on the door interrupted. with a tired groan, Ronald pushed himself up and walked over to get their dinner, tipping the busboy who brought it up to them before handing William his plate, "Finally, we can eat and pass out for a few hours!" he grinned, sitting back on his own bed, plate on his lap, and biting into his ham sandwich.

William put his book aside and accepted the plate with a polite nod of thanks. "Yes, I quite agree with you on that front." He picked up his sandwich and bit into it, hardly even tasting it. He ate mechanically, glad to have something to distract him from the idiot thing he'd nearly done.

They ate in silence, a thin fog of awkward energy between them until Ronald was more than half-finished with his dinner. "Hey—Senpai…Have you ever…you know, liked someone you know you shouldn't?" He asked in a more serious tone than before when he'd been being playful and teasing the man.

William paused and looked at him sidelong. "Undoubtedly."

"…What do you do about it?" Ron continued in inquiry as he looked up at the man. "I mean, especially when you've been crushing on them for so long and it only gets stronger instead of fading away like you thought because…yeah, not so great an idea to try and pursue…"

William felt that the subject was hitting far too close to home. "I…generally remind myself that partaking in my desire wouldn't be wise of me. It doesn't prevent me from…wanting."

Dear gods, he felt himself getting hot under the collar again, and he reached up to flick the top button of his pajama top open. It seemed he could not even gaze upon Ronald anymore without entertaining lustful thoughts.

"Did it ever get easier? Or like, go away? I mean, It's been years, and it's exhausting, to be honest," the blond admitted, taking another casual bite of his sandwich. "Sorry," he added around his mouthful, "I tend ta take whatever's in my head at the time and run my mouth about it when I'm exhausted…"

William slowly shook his head. No, it did not get easier. If anything, it only seemed to get stronger the more he resisted it. "It does not go away, Ronald. I wish it would, but I'm afraid once the mind and heart sets their sites, it cannot be so easily dismissed."

_~Stop looking so blasted appealing.~_

He wanted to grab him and kiss him. William had never felt this strongly before. It disturbed him. Taking care of his baser needs through casual encounters was all well and good; but this was something different; and he could not define it.

"Ronald…" he didn't know what he wanted to say. Invite him back to his bed? Ask him to stop looking so attractive? Confess his feelings?

"What did you do? You know, when it happened to you?" Ron asked, finishing his sandwich and setting his plate aside before pulling his covers back to slide under, "or wish you would have done…"

William tried hard not to stare at him. "I did nothing. I simply…hid it…and still do. I have never acted on the desire I feel, though I fantasize about doing so more often than I'd like to admit."

Goodness, was the room heating up, or was it just him? His glasses were steaming over from the body heat he was putting off, and William demonstrated uncommonly bad table manners by cramming his sandwich into his mouth just to keep himself occupied.

"I was hoping you had some great words of advice on the subject, Senpai," Ron sighed, "It's driving me nuts trying to ignore my feelings. I'm gonna end up like that crazy old geezer back in London if this keeps up! Giggling to myself over nothing…"

William smirked and finished swallowing the last bite of his sandwich. He washed it down with a few swallows of iced tea before answering. "Have you considered telling the object of your affections how you feel?"

At once, he felt a sharp spur of jealousy stab at him. Just _who_ had managed to gain the affections of Ronald Knox to the point where the notorious heartbreaker suffered such distraction? He thought it was better that he not know. His feelings for the boy had grown so unprofessional lately that he dared not trust himself with such information. He might just be tempted to arrange an accident…and that bit of self-awareness frankly terrified William.

"Because I may as well step on another land mine if I do," the blond groaned. "No way am I his type."

"How can you be sure? They may surprise you." William felt like a hypocrite even as he said it. _He_ certainly wasn't making any moves…but he felt he had more reason not to. In addition to Ronald being a coworker and subordinate, the timing was horrendous and now, he knew Ronald already had eyes for another.

_~And why in bloody hell am I encouraging him to act on his feelings, knowing now that it would eat me alive with jealousy to see him with someone else?~_

William checked a sigh as he put away his dish and finished off his drink.

Ron gave a little shrug, "He don't date…" he muttered.

~_Not to mention you hardly knew I existed up till recently, and you focus on your work way too much to have time for me,~ _he thought sadly, punching his pillow into shape and flopping down onto it, arms folded up underneath.

William frowned at that. Perhaps he wasn't the only one at Dispatch practically married to his job. It sounded like he had a lot in common with whomever this fellow of Ron's fancy was, and that irritated him even more. Bad enough that the boy's affections were focused on another, but it would bother him less if he at least sounded like a vastly different person for himself. He couldn't explain why it insulted him…except that he wondered why _he_ was being overlooked, if a workaholic was what Ronald wanted.

Perhaps he was simply jumping to conclusions, though. There could be another reason why the man did not date. "Does he object to dating on some sort of moral grounds?"

It wasn't common for reapers to suffer compunctions about sexual relationships outside of matrimony, given they typically weren't religious…but stranger things had happened. He dug his toothbrush, floss and toothpaste out of his toiletry bag so that he could clean his teeth before bed.

Ron shrugged. "Not that I know of. I just know he doesn't." He paused, thinking back. "Probably just work reasons, really."

"Hmm. Well, perhaps it's for the best," reasoned William. It made him feel selfishly a bit better to hear that Ronald doubted anything would ever come of it, and he decided he needed to come to terms with his feelings and decide what—if anything—to do about them. "Excuse me; I need to brush my teeth."

He went into the bathroom to take care of that matter, and he admonished himself. "Knox isn't for you," he whispered, "so stop this nonsense. You are allowing feelings of comradery in a time of strife develop into something inappropriate."

He could sit there and reason with himself all he liked, but he couldn't stop the jealousy at the thought of another laying hands on Ronald. He brushed his teeth vigorously and he got a bit rough with his flossing, making his gums bleed. With a sigh, he rinsed his mouth out and brought his oral hygiene items back out to put them away.

"Goodnight, Mr. Knox," he said as he climbed back into his bed again. He didn't bother trying to read more of his book; he was far too distracted. He took his glasses off and slipped on his eye mask to help him sleep, and he reached out blindly to click off his bedside lamp.

Ronald had already drifted off, and was only conscious enough to respond with a small hum. Though his mind was still active, twisting images in his dreams of him finally confessing to William, pressing up against him, kissing him—and being kissed and held in return. He'd been having such dreams more and more the longer they stayed in Germany, and he was glad they had separate beds, given his habit of cuddling up to things in his sleep—and the morning wood his dreams gave him.

* * *

><p>-To be continued<p>


	6. Chapter 6

Deciding that perhaps he might take Ronald up on his offer and arrange some company of the erotic kind, William discreetly tucked away some items into his uniform just in case the next morning. He thought it would be crass to bring an escort to their room, so he thought he might call up one of his…contacts…for such endeavors and have them meet up with him at some other location for a tryst. Perhaps if he had a meaningless encounter and got his sexual frustration out of his system, he could stop thinking such inappropriate thoughts about Knox…but it would have to wait until the day's collections were completed.

They returned to the same place the next day to collect more records; this time within the besieged city rather than outside of it. It appeared that the Nazi forces were winning out, but they still had a ways to go before the completely took over Kharkov. They discovered two more cases of empty reels before their daily assignments were even halfway over with, and by noon, they had battled their way through several lesser demons. Bombs and grenades went off as they passed through the combat zones in the streets, and between avoiding those and dodging bullets, William wondered how on earth they were going to make it through the day without injury.

They turned down a broken street to head for the next name on the death list, and William saw an ominous sight sailing through the air toward them, aimed at a group of Red Army agents just up ahead. He grabbed Ronald by the arm and yanked him into an abandoned bread shop, just as the arching grenade hit the street outside. William slammed the door shut and went to the floor with Ronald, covering his body with his own without thought. The sound of screams could be heard and one of the windows shattered from the concussive force, but this time, no debris landed on the two reapers.

Ronald had been distracted as they walked and the sudden move had taken him by surprise. One second he was walking alongside William, the next he was pinned down to a floor by the man, and his cheeks heated. It took him a moment to realize what had happened and why.

"Are you okay, Senpai?" He asked, propping himself up slightly and causing their head's to knock together. "Ow! S-sorry." He rubbed his head.

William grunted in surprised pain and rubbed his forehead, before straightening his glasses. He looked down at the smaller reaper beneath him and he was just about to snap at him for head-butting him, when another explosion occurred outside. He compressed his lips, his nerves stretching taut. It was too much…the noise, the gore, the screams…he'd been holding it together so far, but he kept picturing that look on Ronald's face when he'd stepped on that landmine just yesterday. The fighting was too heavy for them to safely move outside right now, and they'd both taken enough damage on the job already. He glanced around and he spotted a storage area in the back, away from the entrance with a heavy, reinforced door. He presumed that was where they kept most of the baking supplies.

Climbing to his feet, he offered a hand to Ronald. "Come. We shall wait this out and move again when the fighting outside moves on to another area."

Were this place under siege from an air raid, there would be no way he'd suggest holing up inside a building again. Everything happening outside was ground fighting, however, and the storage room would provide enough protection until they could either move on or were forced to portal out for safety.

Ronald nodded and took William's hand, letting him help to pull him to his feet and lead him further away from the doors and windows, and into the storage. His hand never letting go of Will's the whole way, even as they closed themselves up in the small closet-like room lined with shelves, all mostly empty as if it had been raided or the owner packed it all up and left when the fighting started getting too close.

"Damn," Ron sighed, leaning against the door. "This so sucks."

William clicked on the overhead light bulb so that they could see a little better. It flickered weakly before coming on, casting the storage room in dim light. With a glance down, he realized his gloved hand was still clasped firmly in Ronald's. He met the blond's eyes and he started to say something—perhaps to try and reassure him—but then the floor vibrated with another grenade explosion that must have occurred just outside the building, and he impulsively pressed up against him, instead.

Will had never been a particularly protective individual. He watched his colleagues backs when out on assignment with them, true, but more often than not he found himself trying to shield Knox with his own body. After the incident with the mine, it seemed to be an even stronger urge. He thought of the mortals he'd seen blown apart or burned alive, and he closed his eyes and shook his head as his mind painted a picture of any of that happening to Ronald.

"Knox," he said, opening his eyes again. Ronald was staring back at him. His breath quickened with something not quite anxiety. He felt an urgency that was both sexual and emotional, and it was nothing like anything he'd ever felt before.

Ronald's breath caught in his throat as his gaze met Will's. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt a…spark? Something more than his usual little crush. More explosions sounded outside, but he hardly noticed them as he lifted his free hand and rested it on Will's shoulder, gripping it.

A kiss…

It's all he wanted in that moment. it's all he could think about and before he knew it, he'd met his boss' thin lips with his own. William felt a shiver race through him at the touch of those lips against his, and that shiver became a quake. He kissed Ronald back and he forgot all about propriety and his doubts. He pressed Ronald up against the wall, tongue lancing into his mouth demandingly as he snapped and gave in to his feelings. His knee pushed between the blond's thighs and his leather-encased fingers slid through Ronald's dual-toned hair, curling into it and forcing his head back further. He ravished his mouth, teeth scraping against the blond's in his desperate passion.

He wanted to devour him. He wanted to tear his clothes off and have him right there in that tiny storage room, lay into his body and forget about the living hell they were in. Ronald's uniform hat fell to the floor, and William knocked his own off as well. The blond's toned, smaller frame fit against his as if it were meant for him, and he pressed harder against it, grinding his body against Ronald's with needy felicity.

Everything around them was falling apart, but this…ah, this made it all go away.

Wait—what was happening? Lips responding to his? No lecture? No rejection or reminders that it was inappropriate behavior for work? It was all too good to be real. Was it real? Ron opened his eyes to make sure it was really William who was so needfully assaulting his mouth in return.

William was so caught up in the moment that he didn't notice Ronald's confusion. All he knew was that the blond was responding to his kisses, and he wanted more. He practically shoved Ronald up against the wall and he further deepened the kiss. The booms of explosions outside and the sound of gunfire rattling seemed a distant thing to him…unimportant now. He recalled something Ronald had mentioned about restraint, and he stopped clutching his hair to reach down and grab his wrists, and then he forced them up over the younger reaper's head and pinned them there.

Want…need…desire…it was all the same to William, right now. All of that pent up frustration and attraction was finally being vented…protocol be damned.

Oh sweet Rhea!

Ronald groaned, his uniform slacks growing tight quickly. William was pushing his limits. No, destroying them. It was everything he'd ever dreamed of, except—

"No…no," he gasped, reluctantly turning his head away, leaving William's lips on his ear instead—which wasn't any better, "I can't! Not with you…not casually. Fuck, I'll hate myself for this later…"

William was so inflamed with passion that it took a moment for Ronald's protest to register in his brain. When it did, it hit him as hard as the building that crashed down on them before they came to this place.

~_That's right…he wants another. Not you, Spears.~_

But then why had he initiated that kiss? It confused and frustrated him, but he was not a vulgar man. He released his hold on the blond with a gasp and he pulled away, averting his gaze.

"I apologize," said William stiffly, regretting letting himself go like that. Perhaps Knox briefly saw in him something that reminded him of whomever held his affections.

Rejected and mortified, William bent over to retrieve his forgotten uniform hat. He brushed it off before replacing it on his head. "It won't happen again, Knox."

Ronald took a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down, "Sorry—I would, but, It's you. I mean, you aren't the reason I can't…it's totally me, but it's because it's you—I mean…" Ugh, he sounded like a babbling idiot. But he didn't want William to misunderstand. There had been people who used him before. Knowing his reputation, they took what they wanted from him and he'd let them—but there was too much real emotion this time.

He clenched his fists. Maybe it was best to come clean to the man after this? It was the only real way he could think of making sure the handsome older reaper could know why he couldn't have casual sex with him—or anything close to it.

"I told you before; I don't do things when there are real one-sided feelings behind it."

"I…see." William cursed himself vehemently inside. He'd given too much away. Well bloody hell…of _course_ he had! Shoving the man against the wall to snog him in the middle of an assignment was a rather blatant reveal of desire. So, Ronald had no reciprocal desire for him. He'd already presumed as much, believing now that the boy's hasty, embarrassed action for that little kiss on the cheek yesterday was due to fear of leading him on…and it had, in a way. This was why William did not date. He'd learned that lesson in academy, and yet he'd foolishly begun—against his better judgment—to entertain thoughts of making an exception. Whatever had grown between himself and Ronald, it clearly was not as he'd deluded himself into thinking.

"Well, thank you for informing me of how you feel, Knox. I am not in the habit of making advances on parties that aren't interested. I misread you and convinced myself of a moment that only existed to me."

Heavens, he wished that he could slice out his own cinematic record of that "moment" and forget his own stupidity.

"Yeah…sorry, I knew you didn't feel the same way which is why I didn't tell you, but kinda have to, now… I can't because it'd get my hopes up, and it'll hurt more when things return to normal." He turned away and ran his finger through some spilled flour on a shelf. "Of course now it'll be awkward for you to know how I feel about you while we work together…"

He was an idiot. He'd even been the one to start the damned kiss! And then he'd pulled back his offer and….

"…If it's too much for you, I'll put in for a transfer to a different district after this or… I'm sorry, Senpai."

William's eyes narrowed. "Wait a moment…did you just say—"

Another explosion occurred outside, and this one must have hit the building they were in. The overhead light swayed and flickered, and one of the shelves inside of the storage room rocked and fell over. William pressed Ronald up against the wall again, once more shielding him instinctively. When it settled, he looked into his eyes again. Perhaps he hadn't heard him right over all the noise.

"Ronald, did you just say how _you_ feel about _me_?"

"Of course! What else would it be?" Ron pointed out, flushing again, "There's a reason I offered you the room to yourself if you wanted rather than, you know, me. You know you can move now, sir. I mean…no more falling selves for the moment…"

William did not immediately move, because he was too stunned and pleased that Ronald reciprocated his affections, after all.

_~I'm the workoholic he was speaking of? Honestly, I feel so dense. The clues were right before me, but I didn't notice them.~_

This was no way to conduct a romantic interlude, however. True, he had things on him that would aid such an encounter, but shagging the boy in a storage closet while grenades and bullets were flying outside wasn't ideal. The wicked side of him chose not to comment further on it, for the moment. He considered it repayment for flirting with him and kissing him, only to reject him when he responded. He fully intended to show Ronald how he felt, since he was so blasted awful at expressing with words…but not now. Not in this setting.

"We shall discuss this later," he decided aloud, finally pulling away from him. "Our objective should remain on gathering the records and making it safely through this day. As soon as the fighting moves on, we can leave this building and map out our next path."

Ronald looked down and nodded. So maybe William did want him to transfer out.

"Sorry again, sir—I promise I'll work hard."

* * *

><p>William's pleasure at learning that Ronald desired him after all was spoiled a bit when their next target was devoid of records as well. He swiped uselessly at them and gnashed his teeth in frustration.<p>

"It seems to be spreading like a plague," he observed, "And it's being encountered all across Europe. Mark another failed collection on the list, Knox."

Ronald sighed and pulled out their paperwork and a pen, marking the soul as blank. "This is getting out of hand!" He complained. "Whatever is doing this needs to get itself shot and blown up!"

"I'm very curious," remarked the brunet. His phone began to buzz and he dug it out of his pocket to look at the ID. "It's Slingby," he sighed.

Putting it to his ear, he answered the device. "This is Spears."

"Hey, boss," said the Scotsman, "I've go' some news for ya. Are ye somewhere ya can talk?"

William glanced around. Currently they were in an empty part of the city. Most of the fighting had moved further towards the center. "Yes, I believe I am. What is it?"

"Grell an' his partner are in tha hospital. Seems him an' Jeffries ran into some trouble in Auschwitz. We're no' sure wha' happened, 'cause they were both found unconscious by a couple German dispatch officers workin' tha area. Tha board wants yeh an' Knox tae investigate. From wha' I hear, they went back there again after doin' a few assignments in Romania. Guess they go' a lead concerning those empty records."

"I see." William checked his death list and his watch. "And when are we expected to be there?"

"By tomorrow at noon," replied Eric. "Ye'll have time tae finish t'day's collections an' get some rest. Ya can take a portal from tha nearest Dispatch division HQ near yeh."

Getting used to being assigned all over Europe at short notice, William checked a sigh. "Understood. We shall be on site in a timely manner. Please keep us informed on Sutcliff and Jeffries' condition, and relay any information they can recall to us as soon as they are coherent enough to report."

"Will do, boss," agreed Eric. "Watch yerselves ou' there. Whatever took 'em down must have been powerful."

"Agreed. Have a pleasant day, Mr. Slingby."

He hung up the phone and he looked at Ronald. "We are to travel to the Auschwitz concentration camp tomorrow, to investigate the goings-on there. Mr. Sutcliff and Mr. Jeffries have both been hospitalized after sustaining injuries that incapacitated them both."

"Wait—what?" Ronald gasped, snapping his full attention back to William, "What happened to them? Is Grell-senpai okay? I mean, Jeffries I hope is okay, too, but there isn't much out there that can take Grell down!"

"I don't have any details, yet," explained William. "Dispatch has no idea what sort of opposition they ran into. They are fortunate to be alive and they _will_ recover, but we must be especially careful when we go to investigate this matter. We should try to finish this day's collections as quickly and safely as possible, and get plenty of rest tonight."

He silently groused over it…selfishly, perhaps. Tonight might not be the best time to show Knox that his affections were not one-sided. There were more important things at stake here than servicing his libido, however. Ronald was right; anything that could dispatch Grell so easily was something worth being wary of.

Ronald groaned and rubbed his temples, "So much for my plans for tonight…" he sighed. He felt a desperate need for a pub of some sort, a place to get drunk and forget about how he'd fucked things up that day with William and the general whole second great war business. Maybe some nice meaningless sex with someone to help prevent any further kissing of an by extension, leading on William into thinking he'd get something meaningless. Even if chances were slight that anyone spoke English or Italian.

"And mine…perhaps," agreed William with a reciprocal sigh. "Come, we have work to do, yet."

They resumed the cheerless business of collecting the souls they were assigned to, finding one more empty set of records by the end of the day. Feet dragging, they made their way to the portal that would take them back to their realm, both of them silent and pensive with their own thoughts.

* * *

><p>William got the shower first this time, and after drying off and donning his robe, he gazed at his reflection in the steam-smudged bathroom mirror. Could he do this? Could he actually pursue a relationship with the young reaper in the other room? Ronald was so opposite of him…so wild and free-spirited. However, he'd proven himself time and time again during this endeavor. He could be serious when the situation required it. He was loyal, he was reliable…and he was also so very attractive.<p>

_~You are afraid,~_ admitted the brunet to himself as he put on his glasses, staring into his own eyes through the reflection, _~Afraid of loss…afraid of rejection. Will you never do anything for yourself? Never at least attempt to have something that might make you happy?~_

He could practically hear his mother speaking to him, while at the same time, he imagined his father scolding him, telling him it was a foolish hope to entertain when he had more important things to consider.

William compressed his lips, straightened up and nodded. He was tired of listening to his father's voice. He was tired of seeking out warm bodies that meant nothing to him, just to release sexual tension. Most of all, he was tired of depriving himself of the basic comforts of affection and contact.

He left the bathroom with purpose, his eyes latching onto Ronald intensely as he walked out with a damp head of hair.

Ronald was sitting on the edge of his bed in his suit he'd worn to Germany, as it was his only clothing he had with him that wasn't the uniform for fieldwork during the war. He was bent over, tying his shoes.

"Oh just in time. Hey, I wanted to ask before I go out…how do I order a scotch in German? I tried to abstain, but I really need a drink or two tonight."

William almost stopped his advance, dismayed. No. He'd made his decision. "We can order a bottle from room-service, if you like. You aren't going out, Ronald Knox."

He approached the bed and he stood over him, staring down at him with desire and determination. "Things need to be made clear between us. The time for miscommunication must come to an end tonight."

For once, Ronald didn't meet his gaze, looking down and away like a new recruit being scolded for filing out his paperwork incorrectly for the tenth time.

"I'd rather go out and be alone for a few hours, sir." he insisted in a low voice that didn't suit the young man in the slightest.

William frowned a bit. This wasn't at all the way he intended for this conversation to go. However, things never seemed to go as planned for him, lately. He reached down to cup the blond's chin. "Ronald, look at me." He said it in an uncommonly soft voice. He didn't always have to play the role of the supervisor. He used a lover's tone, trying to convey to Ronald something that he wasn't terribly good at putting into words.

Ronald childishly shook his head. "Stop, please. as much as I'd love to, I can't sleep with you—I won't be used by the man I have a stupid unmoving crush on!"

William patiently knelt down before the downcast young reaper. "I've no intention of 'using' you, Ronald. Today in that storage room, I thought…I was under the impression that you were speaking of someone else, those times you mentioned your interest. I honestly had no idea it was me. I believed you were informing me that you don't share my…interest."

He grimaced. Why was this so blood hard?

"And I'm not interested in meaningless sex."

Heavens, he hoped that came out sounding at least partially correct.

Ron's eyes widened and snapped up to William's face, "…You're…having me on!" He accused, unable to believe what he thought he had heard.

"I assure you, I'm not." William got to his feet again, only to sit down beside the younger reaper. He sighed, trying to find the words to explain himself. He stared at the floor, considering his words carefully, with the same meticulousness that he employed with everything else he did.

"Things have changed for me, I think. I was honestly considering arranging for some intimate company with one of my…associates, if only to relieve some frustration and attempt to think with a clearer head. I tried to convince myself that my growing interest in you was merely a symptom of comradery mistaken for more, and that an intimate encounter with another might prove that and set my mind at ease."

He turned his head to look at Ronald, a faintly ironic expression on his face. "I even included certain items when we left to fulfill our mission today, and I was of a mind to contact someone to meet up with me in another establishment for the night, once we finished. Truthfully, the idea has absolutely no appeal to me, now. Not after what happened in that storage room today."

"And…what was that? What happened today in that storage closet? I know I was there but…I'm a bit confused over what happened. It's all a blur, really," Ronald looked down at his signature white shoes he wasn't permitted to wear with his undercover uniform. He still didn't quite understand what William really meant. It still kind of sounded a little casual to him, but then again, it wasn't like William was ever very good at expressing any positive emotions. Anger and annoyance he had perfected.

Adding William's lack of wearing his heart on his sleeve to Ron's ability to be quite thick when it came to things, the blond knew he had to make sure—without a doubt—what it was William was trying to tell him.

The brunet ran his fingers through his damp hair, frustrated with his own inability to make himself clear in this matter, and Ronald's inability to read between the lines. "I'm saying," he began awkwardly, still holding his gaze, "that perhaps it's time I try dating. Obviously this is not the ideal time for me to come to this revelation. In the middle of a war is not truly the appropriate setting to begin a courtship, but I must at least inform you that my feelings for you have changed. Casual encounters between work duties are no longer a thing that will satisfy me, because…"

He took a slow breath and closed his eyes, pushing himself to go on and just tell him the truth. "Because I fear I would only end up thinking of you each time, Ronald Knox. I would compare my companions to you—pretend it was your skin I was touching, your body I was trading pleasure with. I think that would ultimately prove unsatisfying and frustrating."

He opened his eyes again and looked at him, trying to keep his tone calm, logical and practical. Still, a husky note of desire bled into his words when he spoke again. "Given the choice of a fantasy or reality, I would prefer the latter."

"Oh sweet River Styx…you really are saying what I have dreamed of? You actually like me? You want me? I…don't have to go get drunk and find some one-night stand to try and forget you?" Ronald leaned in closer to William, meeting his gaze. "I don't have to be afraid of kissing you again?"

William smirked, inwardly relieved that Ronald finally comprehended what he was trying to say. "I think I would be quite miffed if I discovered you slept with another, now…and as for kissing me, I insist you do so now."

"You have no idea how long I have wanted this!" Ronald's signature grin spread over his face as he reached out and grabbed Will's shoulders, pulling him in as their lips crashed together and he tipped William back to lay on the bed.

William's arms impulsively went around him, his surprise quickly obliterated by the immediate surge of lust and desperation. The only difference was that this time, they were in a bed and safe, rather than holed up in a storage closet in some abandoned, broken down bakery. He returned Ronald's kisses with enthusiasm that surprised even himself, and his hand slid down to cup the blond's bottom. Oh, how he wanted to continue what they'd started in that tiny room, but the practical and calculating side of him cautioned that they should try to hold off. While he had no doubt of his personal revelation or Ronald's sincerity, these were trying times.

He settled for just kissing him and stroking his body, running his hands over his bottom, hips, thighs and back as their mouths exchanged heated kisses. He ached for him, but he could not and would not spoil this new development by rushing it. It was new to them both—particularly him, considering he was used to a kiss leading to sex and then a casual good-bye in the morning.

"Mmmh….can we spend the rest of the war like this?" Ronald groaned happily when their lips parted, "No more paperwork or blank records, no bombs or bullets, no stress or worry… Just…us, wrapped in arms and battling with kisses?"

"I would prefer it that way," agreed William, his lips still caressing Ronald's throat. "If only this conflict could be resolved simply through snogging each other; but I'm afraid reality must take precedence. At the end of each day, however…"

He kissed Ronald's lips and ran his hand down his back. "We can forget about this horror and take comfort in each other."

"I think I could go for that." Ronald smiled, caressing William's bare shoulder. "Will you be this naked every night?"

William smirked. "I shall try to accommodate that desire, Ronald Knox."

Closing the distance between their lips again, he let go of his inhibitions and he kissed his companion with heartfelt passion. It was a healing experience for him, and he could only hope that Ronald felt the same.

"And I'll return the favor." Ron grinned, "Even if it's just snogging." He wiggled out of his suit jacket and kicked off his shoes. So much for the time he took getting ready for the pub; this was a much better activity.

William drew the smaller reaper into his embrace as Ronald joined him on the bed again, and he resumed kissing him. The sense of urgency from their earlier encounter was not present this time, as there was no impending danger surrounding them. In the bakery, he'd kissed Ronald as if it might be the last thing he ever did. Now he could take his time with it. His tongue languidly stroked the blond's, and his hand began to flick open the buttons of his shirt. When he had it open to bare Ronald's chest and stomach, he ran his palm over the toned, smooth torso leisurely. His touch was possessive and confident, silently conveying that the blond was his, now.

"No-one else gets to do this," he murmured huskily between kisses. "No other hand may touch this body, Knox. Only mine, from now on. Well, except for yours, of course."

He couldn't very well forbid the boy from touching his own body, now could he? He smirked. In fact, he would rather enjoy watching him do that. He wondered how the blond would react if he asked him to fondle himself in front of him.

Ronald's cheeks flushed from the unexpected reaction William seemed to have. "I don't play around when I'm serious about someone, Will," Ronald pointed out. "I won't cheat on ya. I have more sense than that."

"It wasn't a question of your loyalty," promised William, "It was a promise that I will not tolerate another so much as _attempting_ to touch this body."

He drew away from him and he gazed into his eyes. "I am a territorial man, Ronald, a man who likes to be in control. I trust you. Still, I want you to know that you are _mine_. I've seen the way others look at you. I think that it's only fair to warn you, before we go much further. I am a civilized reaper, but I'm not particularly patient when it comes to sharing…or seeing my lover disrespected."

He was having difficulty explaining it. He certainly didn't want Ronald to get the notion that he thought of him as a thing…a piece of personal property…but he wanted to make it clear that he would scythe first and ask questions later if he ever witnessed someone laying hands on the blond. He'd seen Ronald dance before at company parties, and he'd seen the way others sometimes rubbed up against him in response to his sexy gyrations and moves.

"You are…a very attractive reaper," explained William further, once more feathering light kisses over the blond's neck, "and even before I admitted my attraction to you, I found it difficult to look away whenever I saw you dance. Unlike some, however, I know how to keep my hands to myself. I just want you aware that my scythe might pinch off something vital, if I see another man trying to take liberties with you."

"I can't help that I was born to be sexy," Ronald shrugged with a smirk. "You'll have to get used to men and women both ogling me. It won't stop, even if you stamp my forehead with 'Boyfriend of William T. Spears'. As for the dancing, maybe you could join me next time to avoid someone else taking the tempting spot? That way you know it's your hands on me, even if I'm too drunk to realize who's touching, hmm?"

William scoffed at the notion, his hand sliding up the blond's side again. "I haven't even a notion of what sort of dancing that is. I'm afraid that your club style gyrations are not my forte. Ballroom dancing is quite another matter." He allowed his lips to trail over his collarbone. "And you had better get used to the fact that I'll not allow others to touch you so familiarly, Ronald Knox. Not if you are with me."

"Ah, yes, because a ballroom-dancing twinkle-toes will scare away the drunken pub-goers," Ronald teased. "You know, I don't just dance at clubs." He slipped his arms around William. "I know a few ballroom dances, myself, believe it or not."

"You would be surprised how intimidating this 'twinkle-toes' can be, whenever a line has been crossed," promised Will between kisses. He cupped Ronald's bottom and gave it a squeeze. "I had no idea you could perform a more elegant form of dance. I think I should like to see that, sometime."

"I haven't done it since before I entered the academy. Probably rusty enough to step on your toes." Ronald shrugged, his hot breath feathering over Will's skin as he moved to press kisses to his neck and shoulders. "I used to do that a lot, actually. Even my mother didn't want to dance with me…"

William tugged on the blond's earlobe with his teeth. "Well, then, we shall have to see about getting you back into practice, won't we? I might even be inclined to let you teach me some of your modern dance moves—with enough drink in me."

It was pleasant to just sit there kissing and discussing activities of leisure they would like to do, whenever these dark days were over with. He decided to lie down on the bed, and he drew Ronald down with him. Tracing his nipples with his thumbs, he urged the blond on top of him. He imagined the two of them enjoying an extravagant ball together, dancing in elegant refinery and enjoying a gourmet meal afterwards. Afterwards, he would take Ronald home with him to his apartment and show him what an attentive lover he could be. Perhaps some silk scarves and a blindfold would come into play, and…

…He was getting carried away with his thoughts, and his body was reacting accordingly. It occurred to William that he was grinding against Ronald suggestively, hands clamped down firmly on his tight little ass.

"Heavens, it truly takes very little for me to forget myself with you," he gasped, easing up on his lewd motions. If he wasn't more careful, he'd surely forget his decision to limit this night to touching and kissing.

"I don't mind…" Ron moaned, "…feels good, oh Styx…" Ronald was getting flustered and excited himself, and he raised his head to look down at William. "We best make up our minds now on what we do tonight before we pass the point of no return."

Breathing heavily, William struggled with himself. He wanted this reaper badly, but this was a rather new development in their relationship. The logical side of him thought that it was best to progress more slowly, to prove—not just to Ronald, but to himself—that he was capable of being monogamous and did not require sexual intercourse to do so. The trials they'd faced together and the bond they had formed might give them both a good excuse to toss courtship aside and go for it…lose themselves in one another and just give in. However, how much sweeter would their first time be if they held off for a while…got to know each other more intimately and explored one another's bodies before finally joining?

William sighed, reaching up to trace the youthful features he found so irresistible. "I wish to kick myself even as I say this, but I think we'd best limit it to what we've been doing, for now. I am unfamiliar with being in a relationship. Rather than satisfying our deepest baser urges right away, I think I should like to explore on another. I…"

He paused, struggling for words. "Dating is an unfamiliar concept to me, and I believe I need practice."

"Then I'll help you." Ronald reluctantly rolled off William and walked over to the chest of drawers William kept his clothes that didn't need to be hung in the closet. He pulled out his pajamas and tossed them to the robe-clad man. "Cut down on the amount of tempting skin," he said before crawling back into the bed, "I don't normally wear pajamas…but I can get some to help us both keep control over out little Knoxwurst and Willswurst urges."

The brunet snorted. "You do come up with some interesting terms for body parts, Ronald."

With a sigh of faint regret, he carried his pajamas into the bathroom to change into them and avoid some of the temptation. Knox was right; too much skin contact might push them both over the edge of common sense.

"Why can't I name little Knoxy?" Ron pouted, readying himself for bed. He didn't yet have pajamas, but his boxers were better than nothing.

William opened the bathroom door a crack when he was finished changing. "Ronald, are you changed?"

He didn't dare peek out. If he saw a flash of nudity from his companion, he just might forget himself again.

"I hope just boxers are okay? I don't have anything else tonight." Ron said with a nod, climbing into bed.

"Boxers are fine," assured William, smiling a little before opening the door and schooling his expression. He joined Ronald in the bed, and he hesitated for a moment before reaching out to put an arm around him and pull him close.

"I cannot say I've ever just…held someone," he murmured. "Do you find that objectionable, Ronald?"

"Only if you object to more snogging." Ronald grinned, pulling him into another kiss. "At least for the next few minuets before we turn in for the night."

"Not in the slightest," agreed William. He kissed him back, and he reached out behind himself to click the bedside lamp off.

The night faded into sounds of kissing, husky whispers and the sliding of material as the two reapers kissed and caressed in the darkness. They fell asleep in one another's arms, and for perhaps the very first time since childhood, William T. Spears sported a relaxed little smile on his face.

* * *

><p>-To be continued<p>


End file.
